


Masks

by Crysania



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Supernatural Elements, Supernatural Shenanigans, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Kylo Ren, Virgin Rey, trapped together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-06 15:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15889263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crysania/pseuds/Crysania
Summary: Set post-TLJ - The bond that Rey has tried so hard to close off tears through her late one night, and she only knows two things: Kylo Ren is in trouble and she must go to him. She finds him stranded on an unknown planet in the far reaches of the galaxy. When she finds herself trapped there with him, they must work together to find a way off the planet...or perish as those who came before them did.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the wonderful ladies of the Reylo Fic Recs group chat. Without them, I can’t imagine this story would have ever been completed. Thanks for all the encouragement and word sprints, my friends!
> 
> Also, while this is not a crossover, the inspiration for this story comes from the Star Trek: TNG episode of the same name, so I would be remiss in mentioning that. It may be a greatly maligned episode, but I was always fascinated by the mythology of it.
> 
> Special thanks to the mods of the Reylo Fanfic Anthology for going over my work with a fine-tooth comb! Your work is much appreciated!

If there’s one thing that Rey has come to realize, it’s that being Force-bonded to someone who has gone back and forth between being your mortal enemy and the one person in the universe who understands you is one of the most difficult things she’s had to endure. It isn’t that her life had been easy; far from it, really. She’d been abandoned, left to scavenge in a desert that ultimately had taken the lives of those weaker than her. She’d counted the days, believing her family would come for her, pushing away the thoughts that told her they were gone, dead, never coming back.

But then Kylo Ren came along and ripped into her mind and she pushed right back and here she is. He said she wasn’t alone. But she is. In her darker moments, she’s pretty sure she always will be alone. She tries to fight those feelings, tries to pretend they’re not real. But still they’re there, always somewhere flitting through the back of her mind, ghosts she cannot completely chase away.

He’s still there, she knows. There are days that she can feel him tentatively poking at the connection that had been forged between them. It almost feels like an apology, but Rey turns away from him each and every time. She doesn’t know what to do, what to say. How do you tell someone they tore your heart in two when they turned from the path you hoped they’d set their feet on? That you had such high hopes and then they threw them on the rocks like so much garbage.

_Luke Skywalker had been right._ It didn’t go the way she thought it would. And so she’s back with the Resistance, hiding the reality of her life from people she counts as friends. It’s not a good place to be. And she’s known, ever since she was brought back into the fold, that it had to break sometime.

It’s the middle of the night when the bond simply _tears_ through her. She comes awake with a gasp, flinging herself out of bed and stumbling about the dark room blindly. She can’t make sense of it, doesn’t know what’s thrown her into this. She’s sure she had cut it off, if not completely, then _almost_ completely. But no, this is different. There’s no subtle shift in the world around her, no dampening of the noises of the base; it’s more like blazing coals raked along the nerve endings that connect her to Kylo Ren.

 “Rey?” comes the quiet voice of Rose from across the room.

Rey lets out a shuddering sigh, hand reaching out for purchase on something, _anything_ , as she feels her knees go out from under her.

“Rey!” Rose sounds frantic now and then there’s light and the concerned face of her roommate staring at her as she clings to the side of her bed frame.

_Fear._

_Panic._

“Rey, what’s wrong?”

_Disgust._

_Hate._

_Anger._

It’s him. She knows it’s him. She can feel the darkness beating at her mind and tries to beat it back, tries to stop the flood of whatever it is from invading her and taking over. She can feel it trying to pull her to him, into his mind, into whatever horrors he’s found himself in.

_Betrayal_.

_The sharp hiss of a lightsaber._

_A shout_.

_Death_.

“I have to go,” she mutters, pushing up from her bed. Nausea hits her almost as soon as she’s on her feet and she reaches out to the wall to steady herself. _Don’t give in_.

“Rey I don’t understand.”

She takes a moment to look at Rose, sees her hair askew, eyes wide. She _can’t_ understand. No one can. Rey reaches out and touches her friend lightly on the shoulder.

“I know.” What else can she say?

Something was wrong.

Terribly wrong.

_And she doesn’t know what_.

“What are you…” Rose starts to say as Rey turns away, grabbing the pack she always keeps put together, _just in case_ , and he lightsaber. Luke’s, still. She’s proud of it, the hours of meditation, the reading, the study, that has led her to reassembling it into something that feels like an extension of herself.

She often tries not to think of why the Skywalker legacy lightsaber calls to _her_ , but she knows. It has to do with _him_ , with the bond that she knows goes much further back than the meddling of some sadistic creep.

“I have to go to him.”

There’s a look about the other woman’s face that says she knows more than she lets on. “Him? Kylo Ren?” she ventures.

“How did you…”

“You talk about him.” Rose offers up a shrug. “In your sleep sometimes. I don’t know what’s between you, but…”

Rey rounds on her, gripping her shoulders. “No one can know. Please, Rose. Don’t tell _anyone_ where I’m going.”

“Where _are_ you going?”

Rey just shakes her head. “I don’t know.” She can sense him, but just barely. There’s…blood. So much blood. And she isn’t sure if it’s _his_ or someone else’s. Something awful has happened. He feels…trapped, she realizes. Trapped, scared, _angry_. His erratic emotions flood the bond and she has to push hard at them to keep them from bringing her to her knees.

“I just…I have to go.”

And then she’s off, running from their room, down the corridors. She leaves Rose standing in the doorway to their quarters and she knows that the other woman will come up with _some_ excuse. It isn’t that Rose likes to lie. But she’s smart. She’s creative. And she’s always interested in learning more about Rey and her Force sensitivity. She’s never told her about the bond, never would have told _anyone_ about it, but Rose seems to have an intuitive understanding that there are things that Rey sees, things she does, that are beyond any rational explanation.

Sometimes Rey wonders if Rose is at least a little Force sensitive. It would certainly explain her almost preternatural empathy. It would explain why she doesn’t press her for details when Rey stares off into space or rushes from the room to work off her anger and frustration in training. It would explain her ability to somehow _accept_ when Rey knows that others would not be able to.

The hangar is dark when Rey slides quietly into it and she’s thankful for that much at least. Almost everyone is asleep at this hour. The one guard, half asleep against the wall, proves to be no problem as Rey reaches out with the Force and sends him into a restful slumber. “I’m sorry, my friend,” she whispers, knowing he’ll get in trouble for falling asleep on the job. Especially when it’s discovered she’s taken one of the shuttles and disappeared. She hates that thought, but some things are necessary.

Take-off is uneventful. She enters in the launch codes and coordinates that would take her some distance away from the base. She doesn’t know where she’s going from there. She only knows she _needs_ get away.

He’s out there.

He’s _hurting_.

And she needs to find out why.

* * *

She’s altered the system on the shuttle to stop sending her coordinates back to base. It doesn’t surprise her at all that such a thing exists on the Resistance’s shuttles. A safety measure, to be sure, but it’s easy to bypass for someone who has scavenged for parts from these types of machines for much of her nearly twenty years of life. The Resistance will be able to trace the shuttle to where she had first jumped, but no further.

Leaning back in the pilot’s chair, she casts her mind into the currents of the Force, riding them out and away from her location. Past planets. Past stars. He’s moving. That much she can tell. Alone, she realizes as she follows the traces through the currents to him. The connection is muted and his walls are up. But it’s still there.

She can still brush his mind with hers.

Taking a deep breath, she pushes in further. _Where are you going?_

Another deep breath.

_Kylo_ …

Another.

_Ben?_

Her eyes are closed and she reaches out a hand. Luke had once smacked her with a reed for doing such a thing, but still that physical motion helps guide her mind, helps push outward to him.

_Where are you?_

She’s drifting among the currents, can feel them like the ocean of Ahch-To, carrying her away from shore, away from her reality and to his.

Her eyes fly open and she rushes to the control panel on the shuttle, fingers flying over it as she inputs coordinates. She’s brought back to the reality around her as the bond fizzles. She blinks once, twice, and then glances down at the information she had just entered into the system.

_Nowhere_.

She’s going nowhere.

Some planet in the Unknown Regions. Star System 7624. One sun, three planets, only one of which is inhabitable. There’s no information about life forms, just one small notation that there may have once been life on the planet but the world has not been explored. So she’s a no one ( _you’re nothing…_ ) going to a nowhere planet.

She’s pretty sure this does not bode well at all.

* * *

It’s a semi-rough descent as she enters the atmosphere, which the shuttle system assures her is indeed breathable. It’s thick with clouds that obscure the ground beneath them. Her understanding of the galaxy is really quite limited, having only explored a handful of planets in the past few months. She’s certainly never seen one that was entirely engulfed in clouds, the ground obscured entirely even as she enters the first layers of atmosphere.

_Please don’t be a desert planet_.

Not that she can ever remember clouds like this on Jakku; the sky there is a bright and clear blue. She had only seen the occasional cloud over the fourteen years she had spent there, usually right before a dust storm tore through her AT-AT. Clouds were still something that set her on edge, bringing back memories of racing back to her AT-AT to hide and hoping she made it before her life ended as so many did on Jakku. Death in a sandstorm, buried in the shifting sands. _Like your parents_ …

She tries not to think of that, tries not to hear his voice, to remember the years marking her days as she’d hoped they would return. Her memories of Jakku are not good ones. She shudders as she remembers the heat, the hunger, and finally pushes it all from her mind as she comes clear of the clouds on the other side.

It’s not a desert planet and she sends her thanks out into the Force for that. It reminds her more of Takodana than anything else, heavily forested, mountains in the distance. She’s almost sure she sees a lake or two hidden within the trees. She throws out her senses into the Force and can feel Ben there, somewhere on the surface of the planet. She turns the shuttle and scans the ground as she floats along over the forests. It feels like ages before she finally finds his shuttle tucked away in a small clearing on the far side of the planet. It’s small, much smaller than what she expected, and easily overlooked. But it’s still the black of the First Order ships, ominous and terrible, sitting there in the middle of what seems to be an uninhabited planet.

_Something terrible has happened_.

She lands her own shuttle easily enough. Piloting comes naturally to her, almost frighteningly so. And she wonders, not for the first time, how much of her abilities are due to her connection to Ben and how much are just her own. She’s heard he’s a first-rate pilot and even Poe has grudgingly admitted that he might be better than him. And so were her abilities _hers_?

Shaking her head, she lets the ramp down, grabbing her lightsaber and clipping it to her belt as she descends into the humidity of the unnamed planet.

Her senses are tingling with _something_ before she even finishes her descent. Voices, distant and muffled. Words she can’t understand skitter around her, trying to wrap around her mind. A feeling of discontent, a feeling of _need_ and _want_ and…

Her eyes turn toward the other shuttle, taking in what she already knows she’s going to find. It’s tilted precariously on the side of a hill, the front smashed in, the window shattered. The ramp to it is open but she’s sure she’s not going to go that way. It’s a hair’s breadth away from collapsing down the side of the hill and even as she contemplates going near it, it gives a groan and shifts slightly.

Leaping back, she shouts for Ben. He’s here. _Somewhere_. He’s not on the shuttle, she realizes; his Force signature is not that close. He’s…She stops, presses her mind out toward him for a moment. _Force_.

She can see the tracks leading into the woods, heavy booted feet that moved in an uneven pattern toward the edge of the words, disappearing down a path she isn’t sure she should follow but knows she will at the same time. With one more glance at his shuttle, abandoned like some child’s discarded toy, she strides off into the forest, head held high, one hand on her lightsaber. Just in case.

She doesn’t fear Ben, not exactly, though a small part of her worries what a severely injured Ben might be like. His wandering into the forest doesn’t bode well. Abandoning his ship, abandoning medical supplies and food rations and shelter to go wandering off into a forest on a planet that _she_ at least doesn’t know anything about…None of it makes sense. Every answer she can come up is worse than the last.

_Severely injured…_

_Delirious…_

_On the verge of death…_

She takes a deep breath and reaches down inside herself. Yes. She can feel him out there and so after gathering some meager supplies, she follows the same path he had walked. She has to follow where he’s led.

She has no choice.

* * *

She’s been wandering for what feels like days. It was nearly dark when she set off into the thick forest after Ben. There are no footsteps here, but she can sense him. He’s moving away from her at a much more rapid pace than she can keep up with through the dense undergrowth.  

It’s turned dank and cool in the shadows of the forest as the sun goes down and she shivers as she continues her trek. She has her poncho at least, something to keep her warm. She long ago learned her lesson when she stood on the surface of Starkiller Base, the bitter wind leaving her skin numb, while she fought Kylo Ren. Only adrenaline and the swings of her lightsaber had kept her from noticing the bitter cold of the place. Once all that had drained out of her she had certainly begun to become aware of it, but by then Chewbacca was there and they had rushed back to the safety of the Falcon.

Now she is all too aware of the cold and pulls the poncho tighter around herself as she trudges on. No rain falls and she’s thankful for that much at least. She’s still not quite used that. Rain. Water just falling from the sky. It feels like a waste but _oh_ , what a glorious waste it is. Sometimes, in the dark of night on Ahch-to, she would step outside her hut, lift her face to the sky and let it soak into her hair, drip down the sides of her face. Such a precious commodity on Jakku. But on these other planets, it’s plentiful. Rain storms and rivers and _waterfalls_. She’d like to see one...someday maybe.

She’s pulled out of her reverie by the snap of a stick and she stops, her eyes trying to see into the darkness around her. There are _sounds_ there in the forest. Not the voices. Those had drifted away soon after she set food within the trees, though she can still _feel_ them out there, trying to press through any mental defenses she erects. These sounds are something else.Native animals that scurry through the brush at her feet, fly from treetop to treetop. She stares upward for a moment, watches the sway of the trees in the moonlight, almost transfixed by the motions, dark and ethereal.

_Masaka…_

She has her lightsaber up and lit before she can even think about what she’s doing, turning to try to find the source of the voice she keeps hearing. _Someone is there, watching, waiting._ Her lightsaber illuminates the path she’s taken, highlighting the purple narrow-trunked trees with a slight blue glow. Whirling to her left and right, she sees…nothing.

“Hello?” She hates the way her voice sounds, hesitant and tinged with worry. “I know you’re there. Come out.” There. Demanding. Confident. She hopes the slight tremor in her voice, the shiver that passes down her spine isn’t obvious to whatever is out there.

_Masaka…_

No one steps out of the shadows.

There’s nothing _there_.

Just that one word, the only one that’s distinct in any way, the syllables slightly drawn out on a hiss. She can feel them trying to draw her closer. She wants to follow those murmurs, trace them to where they’re coming from. She’s sure they’re telling her _something_ if only she can stop to listen properly.

With a shudder, she pushes it all from her mind. It’s nothing. It _can’t_ be anything. It’s just the noises of the birds far above her, like the cries of the porgs on Ahch-To or the vultures that stalked the scavengers of Jakku, just waiting to pick their bones clean. But still, she turns and runs from it, the sound of the beasts, the birds, the _voices_ following her.

_Where are you Ben?_

_What am I doing here?_

_What has happened to you?_

Something is close on her heels. She’s sure of it. She can feel it closing in on her. Predator and prey. And still the only thing she can make out from the sounds around her is that one word. It isn’t Ben’s voice repeating it. It’s someone – some _thing_ – else.

Leaning forward, she races through the brush, weaves down a path that is nothing more than broken sticks and trampled plants that tell her _something_ recently came this way. She’s sure there hasn’t been sentient life on the planet in years, though she can still feel the Force here. Just a faint trace, as if it’s encased within the bark of the trees, hidden in the thick undergrowth that she’s trampling.

She’s flying now, or it seems, feet barely hitting the ground, racing in a near-panic through the still-dark woods. She sees just a sliver of sun, somewhere high above the trees, but it doesn’t trickle down to where she runs, deep in the oppressively humid forest. Another animal, running from something, running _to_ something.

_There’s nothing there._

_No._

_There’s_ something _there._

_Run…_

_Flee, my child…_

She plunges into the thick canopy, hacking at it with her lightsaber in frantic swings. Then she’s clear, pushing through to the other side.

Ben is there.

He stands shadowed in the middle of the clearing, backlit by the sun as it rises behind him. She can’t make out anything in his face, but he takes a step toward her. Halting, almost lurching along. He’s never been a graceful man, always moving with purpose, steps just a little too heavy with purpose. But now he almost looks robotic. One foot in front of the other, knees not quite moving as smoothly as they should, as he makes his way across the clearing.

“Ben?”

He doesn’t respond to his name. Not the first time she says it, nor the second.

There’s an intensity as his steps get faster, more frantic. She wants to pull back, hide.

_This is a mistake_.

There’s a klaxon going off in her head.

_Run._

_Hide._

_Leave him to his fate._

The cacophony of voices in her head hits an almost fever pitch and she wants to cover her ears. She backs up a step, then another. Hits the bushes behind her. She’s almost driven to her knees as the sound nearly overwhelms her. Hate, rage, the darkness of roiling emotions gone wrong.

_Escape_.

_While you still can._

And then he is nearly on her. One of his hands comes up to touch her shoulder.

The voices stop.

She can hear the rush of blood in her ears, the harshness of the breaths she sucks in. He leans in close, _too close_ , and she is frozen to the spot, wondering for a moment if he’s about to kiss her. _No…_

He touches her face almost reverently and sinks to his knees before her. “Masaka…is waking…”

The sun rises above the treetops, bathing them in golden light. And then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses at her feet.


	2. Chapter 2

There’s silence in the clearing. The birds do not sing, the beasts that live in the dense undergrowth do not move. Nothing approaches. For a moment, Rey simply stares down at Ben. He’s curled onto his side, arms wound tight around his knees. Even unconscious, his face does not look relaxed, eyebrows drown low over eyes shut tight, full lips turned down at the corners. She wonders if he ever smiles, if he even knows what _happiness_ is.

She watches him for another moment and finally kneels at his side, the wet of the dewy grass soaking into the thin material of her pants. “Ben?” she whispers, leaning down closer to him. He doesn’t move and she touches his shoulder. Still nothing. “Ben, you have to wake up,” she says louder. But still, no response.

She leans back and studies him. He’s too heavy to try to transport back to her shuttle on her own. She can try with the Force, but she’s not sure how long she can extend her use of it for. Lifting rocks, sure. Lifting an entire human being and transporting him through a dense forest? She’s pretty sure that’s out of the realm of her abilities. She’s still not trained, not fully at least, and she frowns as she thinks of the few lessons Luke Skywalker had taught her before becoming one with the Force.

Ben curls further in on himself and says _something_. She can’t make out the words. He repeats them. Over and over. She hears the name _Masaka_ again and she has no idea what the connection is, what it means. She shivers in the cool morning air, worried that this _Masaka_ may come looking for them.

She tries one more time to wake him, but his feverish mutterings become louder, more frantic, and she backs away. He’s hot to the touch and she worries that he’s taken ill with something she won’t have any idea how to cure.

_Water_ …

He needs water. Even now she can see that his lips are chapped and dry, his skin unnaturally pale.

_Water…_

She remembers a creek, not too far back. It wasn’t much, but there may be enough of a flow to fill her canteen, enough water to make sure he doesn’t expire from dehydration.

_He won’t die._

_Not on her watch_.

* * *

When she returns to him, not more than an hour later, he’s not much different than when she left him. Still unconscious, lips forming words in a language she’s never heard before. He’s rolled onto his back, long arms and legs splayed out across the ground. His hair fans out about his face and she can see one of his ears. She realizes she’s not seen them before and now she understands why the Supreme Leader of the First Order keeps his hair long and carefully combed over them. They’re large, not really a surprise considering the sheer size of the rest of him, but they stick out at an odd angle.

_Endearing, really_.

They humanize him somehow.

She kneels next to him and dribbles just a little bit of water on his lips she waits to see if he’ll drink on his own. It’s not the first time she’s had to force water down an unconscious person’s throat. The amount of people who thought they could beat the Jakku desert with little experience always amazed her.

The water slips over his lips, down the side of his chin.

_No good_.

She reaches out and presses her finger to his lips and she’s surprised at just how soft and plush they are. She tries not to think too hard about how good they feel beneath her finger or notice the way they part at her first hesitant touch. She’s able to dribble a little more water into his mouth and is relieved to see that he at least swallows it.

He may be unconscious but he’s _there_.

Sitting cross-legged on the ground, she pulls his head into her lap, lightly touching his forehead and pushing back sweat-slicked dark hair. He’s been muttering nonsense words in his restless sleep for what seems like hours.

Maybe it’s been minutes.

Maybe it’s been days.

Or years.

Rey blinks her eyes and shakes her head. There’s a black hole somewhere inside her head that keeps wanting to drag her in, its gravitational pull almost stronger than her own mind. She won’t let it take her, not like she’s sure it’s taken _him_.

And so she presses her hand to his head as she presses into his mind. It comes easily these days, almost too easily. Their bond sings as she presses inside what is usually a warm, dark place. Welcoming, a space that she knows he relishes her occupying.

But not this time.

Something pushes back.

A creature dances by, fangs bared. It’s humanoid, but like nothing she’s ever seen. Purple skin mottled with blue, long canine teeth, almond-shaped eyes set deep in its head. Another dances by near it, similar but colored differently. And then she’s awash in bodies as they press in and around her. She hears that word. _Masaka_. And other words, ones she understands even less.

Ben is there, standing in the middle of it all.

_Masaka,_ he says and holds out a hand to her.

The scene shifts and they’re standing in the ruins of a city, dark stone jutting into the sky, fragmented and burnt in places. There are bodies everywhere and she sees what’s left of these people.

_War._

_Starvation_.

_The horrors of a people destroyed from the inside out_.

Ben comes awake with a gasp and she’s thrown out of his mind and back onto the ground. “What was that?” Her voice comes out on a gasp, as if she’s been running hard instead of sitting on the wet ground with his head in her lap.

“Rey?” he asks as he rolls over onto his knees.

“Who else did you think would come to save you?” She tries for amused but there’s a current of something darker running under the words.

He just stares at her, his eyes almost too big in the lengthening shadows. “I don’t need saving,” he mutters.

She ignores that. “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t respond, not right away. Instead his eyes scan the clearing around them, the woods, the sky. The sun is slowly sinking behind the trees and she knows that soon they’ll be trapped out here without any light other than their lightsabers.

“Ben?” she whispers.

He’s on his feet in an instant and she watches as he reaches down to his belt and comes up empty-handed. Watching the play of emotions on his face is like watching a holodrama. Confusion, fear, _anger_. “We need to get out of here.” And then he’s turning to walk away. She’s left staring after his rapidly retreating form.

“Ben, wait,” she calls and races after him, reaching out a hand to grasp him on his upper arm.

He swings around faster than she expects and she collides with his chest, bumping her nose on the muscles there. His arms come around her and hold her steady for just a moment. “Rey,” he starts to say.

She looks up at him. _Too close_. There’s an intimacy to their Force bond; she can’t deny that. But being pressed up against him, this close…She can’t quite figure out if she wants to step back or lose herself within him. “Ben,” she mutters. “What is…”

He’s the one who puts distance between them then, gently grasping her upper arms and pushing back a step or two from her. She feels like she can breathe again. “I don’t know,” he admits and she can see how hard it was to allow that admission. “I just don’t know. We just…We need to get out of here.”

“Your shuttle is destroyed,” Rey murmurs.

“We’ll take yours.”

He says nothing else, instead reaching out and offering one of his hands to her. She hesitates and can see the way the pain works its way from his expressive eyes down to his generous mouth. And then finally she takes his hand. He wraps it around hers and she’s struck by just how _massive_ those hands are. Everything about him is big, larger than life: tall and broad with massive hands and a personality to match.

He tugs her into the woods. It’s a race then as they trip over roots and, once or twice, almost each other. She’d laugh, but there’s nothing funny here. He’s desperately serious about getting out of the woods and off the planet. And she has no choice but to follow him. And soon, he’ll have no choice but to follow _her_. She’ll take him with her; she has to. But she has no idea what she’ll do with him once they’re off the planet.

He can’t go to the Resistance.

She can’t go to the First Order.

She’s not even sure _she_ can go back to the Resistance at this point. Racing off in the middle of the night, stealing a shuttle, and meeting up with Kylo Ren on a planet in the middle of nowhere does not speak well to her trustworthiness.

When they finally run out of the woods, she breathes a huge sigh of relief. “My lightsaber,” he mutters, staring at the shuttle that he had arrived in. It’s slipped a few more feet down the side of the hill and she’s afraid that any wrong move will knock it completely off.

“You _left_ it there?” She can’t believe he would _do_ such a thing.

“I wasn’t exactly myself,” he shoots back. There’s a petulant bent to the words.

There’s a story there; she knows it. “Just…be careful.” She squeezes his hand tight for a moment before releasing it.

“I’m always careful.”

She does actually laugh at that, a small snorting huff that comes out as she watches him rush off. He _is_ careful this time at least, climbing almost gracefully into the shuttle. He forgoes his normal heavy footsteps, testing each bit of the ramp before he continues. It feels like he disappears inside for far too long, but then he returns, safe and sound, with the lightsaber and a few other supplies in hand.

And then she finds herself on her shuttle with Kylo Ren. With _Ben_. She’s still not sure what to call him, images of his pursuing her on Starkiller Base mixed up with quiet Force connections across the galaxy. He lets her call him Ben. He responds to it. And yet she’s not sure if that’s who he is. She’s not sure _he_ knows who he is anymore.

They settle in, with her in the pilot’s chair, him in the copilot’s. He lets her take the lead. “Where are we going?” she asks as she inputs some commands.

“Anywhere.” There’s a dark edge to the words.

She keys in a few coordinates that will take them some distance from this unknown planet, but not too far. They need time to talk.

She presses the button.

And waits.

Ben watches her.

She hits the button again.

There’s a furrow between his brows.

“Rey.” His voice sounds tight.

“I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“It worked fine when you landed?” He’s on his feet now, bending over the controls. She bats his hand away.

“I know what I’m doing…”

“You’re not doing something right.”

“Stop touching things!”

“Well, fix it!” He throws himself back into his seat and she turns to watch him for a moment. His jaw is clenched, his lips pressed together. One hand is curled into a fist on the armrest and the other hovers dangerously over his lightsaber.

She presses a few more buttons and finally sighs. “I can’t.” She hates how small her voice sounds. She’s _Rey_. Rey the scavenger who made her own speeder. Rey with the Force. Rey the one who can do _anything_.

“You…can’t. Or _won’t_?” Brittle. That’s the word she’d use to describe the sound of those words.

“What is going on, Ben?” she finally says as she turns to study him.

He looks away from her and the lines of his body draw taut, like a bowstring just on the edge of being released. “I don’t want to…” She gives him a pointed look. She knows where this is going. He’s going to shut down and refuse to give even an _inch_.

“Ben, please?” He says nothing. “I followed you all the way here.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

She scoffed at that. “Are you _sure_ about that? Because –”

“Fine!” He cuts her off with one swipe of his hand and she jumps back a little. It’s not that she’s _scared_ of him. It’s just that he’s large, and he seems even bigger stuck in the tiny cockpit of her shuttle. “I might have…wanted to see you.” The words come out as if they pain him to say.

“Might have.”

He rubs his temples with one hand and closes his eyes. “Please, Rey, can we stop this?”

“You’re terrified,” she says and there’s no malice behind the words. For a moment she feels a little curious, but then a shiver slides its way up her spine. “What happened?” He still looks hesitant to tell her and she finally reaches out a hand and tentatively touches his. Sometimes she’s still hesitant to touch him, afraid she’ll see that future that she saw laid out for him, for her, the future that didn’t seem to want to come true. “Please tell me.”

He takes a deep breath. “There was a coup.”

“A…”

“Yes. Hux.”

“But you’re _Kylo Ren_ ,” she says, as if that weren’t obvious.

He snorts. “I’m just one man, Rey. One man against Hux and his hundreds of Stormtroopers. Even with the Force, the odds were against me.”

“Was no one on your side?” The words slip out before she can help them.

His eyes close briefly and then slit open, watching her through heavy lids. He looks drained, dark circles beneath his eyes. They stand out in stark relief to the paleness of his face. “No one has ever been on my side.”

She thinks of his parents and remembers the fate of his father. She thinks of Snoke and what sort of toll his being on Ben’s side had taken. She thinks of Hux and realizes there is far more to the pasty little ginger than she might have otherwise thought. “I’m on your side,” she finally says. And she means it too.

“I can’t go back,” Ben says and the words are tinged with a bone-deep weariness. “I can’t go to the Resistance either.” One side of his mouth quirks up. “I know that’s what you were thinking. But you know the truth of it. The Resistance would make an example of me. The First Order wouldn’t even try that much. I’m a dead man no matter where I go.”

He stands then and leaves the cockpit.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, his lips pressed together. “I need to get off this piece of junk. I...just need to move.”

“We could spar,” she offers.

“Maybe you should spend some time trying to fix this thing so we can get off this Force forsaken planet?”

“There’s nothing _wrong_ with it,” she starts to say.

His whole body seems to tense and then he turns and punches the durasteel wall. She winces at the sound of his hand colliding with it, the crunch of bones. She winces, but lets him go when he walks away this time. “There’s a small medical room,” she shouts and hears him grunt as he moves away.

She’ll let him take care of himself. Something tells her he’s used to it.

* * *

They do spar, eventually, setting up in the clearing near her grounded shuttle. They haven’t fought _against_ each other since Starkiller Base and it feels a little odd to come up against him now. Maybe the strangest thing is that she realizes he wasn’t _trying_ to kill her back then, just as he isn’t now. He’s flashy and strong, and he definitely comes at her full force, but he always holds back just a little.

As does she.

It’s not until she actually scores a hit on him, slashing across his bicep accidentally, that she realizes he’s _exhausted_. The sun is high in the sky and the rays beating down on them seem to have knocked the wind out of him.

“We should quit.”

“No.” Stubborn to a fault.

“Ben.” The word comes out like a warning. “You’re exhausted.”

“I’m not.” His lightsaber drops heavily to his side, belying those words.

She sighs as he turns away from her. There’s a certain set to his lips, almost a pout. He’s been through hell. She knows that, can sense it flowing across the bond. But still he wants to carry on as if nothing has changed.

When _everything_ has changed.

“I’m going to get more water,” she announces and shuts her own lightsaber off.

His turns his own off a moment later and she tries not to notice the almost inaudible sigh of relief that comes from him. “Fine. I’ll just…sit in the damned shuttle or something.”

She shakes her head. Nothing will ever be easy with him.

* * *

The water is easy to find this time. She knows where the creek is and when she opens up her mind to the Force, it’s easy to follow the patterns of life around her.

She returns with both of their canteens filled to the brim. It will help get the rations down when they try to eat them later. It’s not that she’s used to anything different, really, but even after all these years of eating reconstituted portions, she still hates them.

She finds him in the shuttle collapsed onto the one hard pallets in the living quarters. He’s too big for it. Of course he is. His legs hang off the edge and one hand is thrown out awkwardly. She can’t help the soft smile that crosses her face. The Supreme Leader of the First Order. _Former_ , her mind supplies. He sleeps like a clumsy child, all long legs and awkward angles, and is that a bit of drool coming out of the side of his mouth?

“Ben?” she says softly. He’ll need water after their sparring. She knows how dangerous dehydration can be, has seen what it did to those who didn’t fare well scavenging on Jakku. Hallucinations, desperation, killing for even the smallest drink of too-warm water.

And finally death.

She won’t let that happen here. The planet is lush and dehydration is the last thing they should have to worry about.

He doesn’t wake to his name, so she steps closer, speaks louder.

Nothing.

Not so much as a twitch of an eyebrow or a movement from him.

She leans down and pushes at his shoulder.

_Nothing_.

He’s not asleep.

_He’s unconscious_.

She feels that familiar shiver work its way up her spine. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to go. It’s not the way _anything_ should go. She strokes the hair back from his face, lightly touches the bridge of his nose. It’s almost too big for his face, like his ears. And yet somehow all those strange, overly large features come together to make one perfectly imperfect whole that she somehow finds not only endearing, but attractive.

He mutters something in his sleep and she recognizes this time that they’re words in a language she doesn’t know. She’s not sure _he_ knows it either and that thought freezes the hand that’s still in his hair. He mutters something else, reaching out and gripping her hand, pulling it tight to his chest. She goes with him easily. Perhaps _too_ easily, really. She wants this, wants the press of his body close to hers. It should scare her, and she cannot fathom why it doesn’t.

The pallet is small and he takes up most of it, but she manages to maneuver herself so she’s curled up at his side, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other awkwardly trapped against his back.

She contemplates working her way back into his mind, but she knows there are things there she doesn’t want to see, doesn’t want to know. And so she simply closes her eyes and drifts next to him.

They don’t have much right now, trapped on this strange planet. But they have each other. She supposes that has to be enough for the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

She’s startled awake by something next to her shifting. And then a voice… “Rey?”

Her eyes open and she almost falls off the metal pallet as she tries to put some distance between Ben and herself. He reaches out a hand to steady her and it keeps her close. She can feel the heat coming off his body, can see the flecks of gold in the darker irises of his eyes as she tries to stop from glancing down at his full lips. They’re close, _too close_.

She pulls herself away and gracelessly slides off the pallet.

“What happened?” His voice sounds distant, still muddled with sleep.

“What?”

“I came in here to rest and then…this…”

“You don’t remember anything?” She watches as he shudders and she’s sure there’s something to that.

“Not much,” he admits. She reaches out to him through the bond and finds it unusually quiet. There’s usually an energy there, aggressive, angry. But now it’s gone, replaced with a sort of strange emptiness.

“We should,” she starts to say. _We should…do something. What were they supposed to be doing?_ “What’s going on here?” There’s a fuzziness to her mind, like there’s a blanket wrapped around her memories, her thoughts.

He watches her, eyes large, lips slightly parted. And then finally he blinks. “I don’t know.” With a shrug, he gets up and walks away. She follows. She’s not sure what else to do really. Whatever is going on, they’re in this together.

“We need to do something,” he says as he pulls out a couple rations and tosses her one.

“What exactly do you expect us to do?”

“We need to get off this planet.” There’s a tightness to his voice, an unease that she’s felt since the moment she landed.

“I know.”

“Can you fix the shuttle?”

“There’s nothing…”

“There’s _something_ wrong.” The words come out fast, forceful. “There has to be. It doesn’t _work_.”

“Well, gosh, Ben, I had no idea,” she shoots back. She’s so damned _tired_. “I guess I hadn’t noticed.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment and then turns from her, taking a bite out of the ration bar and grimacing. They’re tasteless things, dry, entirely uninteresting to eat in both texture and flavor. But they’ll keep them sustained for a little while at least. “We need to fix this thing.”

“Fine, Ben, you win. I’ll do my best.”

They set to working on it together. Rey pulls out wires and checks them for electrical impulses, makes sure the connections are working. Electricity flows through each connection. She runs diagnostic after diagnostic on the shuttle, and each one comes up negative.

Ben suggests checking the engine itself and disappears into the engine room. Rey bangs her fist on the dashboard and follows. She knows what he’ll find there. The shuttle worked fine upon landing and unlike his, there was no crash, no damage of any sort. It just simply stopped being able to do anything but the most basic of functions. The fresher works, the lights work, but nothing will allow them to get airborne, to leave the planet.

She stands in the door and watches him work. He strips the layers of his thick black outfit off as he does so, revealing toned arms that she well remembers from that one encounter on Ahch-To. He wears a sleeveless shirt beneath it and it clings to him as sweat drips down from neck to chest. She should look away but it’s really quite mesmerizing. When he lets out a growl of frustration and punches the side of the hyperdrive, she jumps back.

“Don’t damage anything,” she says and rushes at him. Her hand is on the lightsaber at his waist before she can stop herself.

“Why does it matter?” He’s breathing hard when he looks at her and she releases the lightsaber, backing up a step. He’s close…too damned close, and it’s too damned hot and too damned _small_ in that room with his overly large frame taking up so much damned _space_.

“There’s nothing wrong.” His voice is deep, still a growl, and she shivers as she backs up against one of the walls, tries to find her way out of the room.

“I…”

“Yes I know.” One hand slices through the air and she’s almost sure that he wishes he were holding his lightsaber. She can feel him just a hair’s breadth away from breaking, teetering on the edge of some precipice. It would take so little to push him over and for him to take her with him.

“We need to get out of here,” he mutters again and punches the wall nearest him. Then punches it again, the crack of his knuckles against the durasteel loud in the otherwise silent shuttle. Three times, four, and Rey realizes he’s not going to _stop_ until he’s exhausted himself or until he breaks apart from the rage, the helplessness they both feel.

She rushes forward and tries to put her hand on him. He shrugs her off. “Ben!” He hits the wall again, again, _again_ , grunting with each blow. She calls his name with each blow. Louder, more frantic. And then… “Korgano!”

He stops.

_Silence_.

He turns to look at her.

All she can hear is the harshness of his breathing, the creak of the shuttle as he moves _._

He says nothing, just _stares_.

“I don’t know why I said that,” she murmurs. She doesn’t even know what it means. It’s like that other word. _Masaka_. Nonsense words. But this time it comes from her mouth and she’s certain it’s meant to be a name.

But whose _?_

He takes a step closer to her and she almost… _almost_ …steps back. There’s a look in his eyes. Intent, a predator stalking his prey.

She stands her ground.

He comes another step closer.

She shivers.

It’s not even cold in the stuffy confines of the shuttle. But still she feels the shiver trace its way up her spine.

“You’re afraid of me,” he murmurs.

“No,” she says quickly.

“Then…” His voice trails off and he cocks his head slightly to the side. His eyes never leave her and she’s reminded of their last confrontation. _They were filthy junk traders_. There had been something there behind the words. She was never quite sure what. Disgust, maybe. But at her? At her parents? Maybe both? She well remembers his insults. _You, a scavenger…_ She was sure they’d moved beyond that by that point, but…

“I…” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. Something’s not right.”

His eyes soften a little at that, and he moves closer to her until she’s forced to look up at him. She knows he’s tall on some sort of superficial level. But here in the confines of the shuttle she realizes just how _far_ she has to look up to meet those piercing eyes.

For a moment, no one moves. They simply share space, breathing, the bond ebbing and flowing between them. She’s sure she breathes in as he breathes out, a sort of rhythm that forms between them.

And then his arms wrap around her, tight bands pulling her close against his chest.

Hers wrap around him and there’s a heady feeling of _something_ that overtakes her.

_This is right_.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says and she can feel the rumble of the words in his chest, can feel the ghost of his breath across the top of her head.

“I don’t know,” she whispers against the expanse of his chest.

“I do.” He is resolute. “We’re survivors, you and I. We’ll find a way off this planet.” He releases her a moment later, stepping back a pace from her.

Not wanting to break the contact, she reaches out and grasps his hand. He glances down at where her hand holds his much larger one and a ghost of a smile traces across his lips.

She’s never seen him smile, she realizes. Never seen such a quirking of his lips. He’s always serious and smiling looks almost unnatural on his features. Not like Finn or Poe, who both smile easily. Life has beaten down Ben Solo, turned him into something he never was meant to be, and made him far too serious at such a young age.

“We should get some rest.” He squeezes her hand and leads her back toward the pallet. It feels like it’s been ages since they woke up there.

“There’s only one…”

There’s that small movement of his lips again. “You’re safe with me.” She’s surprised to see that his cheeks have turned a bit red. The tips of his ears, which she finds endearingly over-large and almost ridiculous on his narrow face, have turned red as well.

“I know.”

And she is.

She realizes this now. There are few who would consider Kylo Ren _safe_ , but she knows that no matter which side of the war they’re on, she’s safe here with him right now, on this strange planet in the middle of nowhere.

Nodding, she releases his hand and he gets down on the pallet, back to the wall. “You’ll be more comfortable this way,” he mutters, patting the bit of space left in front of him. There’s not much. Enough that if she lies on her side and he wraps his arm around her she might not fall off onto the floor.

But she manages, laying down with her back to him, squirming until she is flush against him. He lets out a small groan as she situates herself and she comes close to opening her mouth to apologize until she realizes what this whole thing must be like for him. For _her_ , if she’s honest. She’s never shared a bed with anyone, never wanted to. And here she’s curled up front-to-back with the man who _should_ be her mortal enemy and who more and more feels like someone she lost along the way and finally found.

He wraps his arms around her and keeps her close, tucking his long legs up underneath hers. One of his hands comes up and briefly touches her hair. “Sleep now. I’ll keep you safe.”

The sun is past its zenith in the sky. She’s not sure how she knows this, tucked up inside a shuttle with no window to the outside. But she feels it deep in her bones, in her _soul_. The sun is waning and she with it.

She nods drowsily against the arm she’s using as a pillow.

And then she’s sucked down into sleep. Whether she wants it or not.

_And just as you were really enjoying this_ …

* * *

_Her eyes open._

_All is darkness around her. Turning her eyes to the heavens she sees…nothing. Some pinpricks of light, stars of distant worlds, distant galaxies winking in and out of existence._

_He should be here._

_She can_ feel _him._

_Close._

_So close._

_“Korgano.” The word is half sung, a sort of_ Sprechstimme _. It takes her a moment to realize the word comes from her._

_No one appears and she finds herself walking._

_She is sure-footed._

_Of course she is. She is a goddess. And even though it is night, the world is still_ hers _._

_“Korgano,” she sings out again._

_Silver light pierces the darkness in front of her, tumbling out of the sky as if lit up by some sort of shuttlecraft. But it’s not a shuttle. She looks up to find the source._ Nothing _. It comes out of nowhere, a strange cone of light, as if the moon were shining down through the trees._

_And then he is there._

_Stepping into that light._

_He wears little more than a loincloth that covers only those parts that one might consider indecent to bare. His chest is sculpted alabaster, his hair wild about his face, legs long and muscled as he stands with his feet wide apart. He crosses his arms over his chest as he watches her._

_He is beautiful._

_There are no other words that fit._

_Beautiful and otherworldly. She wants to look away and yet she_ can’t _. He is somehow more beautiful than the sculptures of the masters. His scar, her mark,  is a line down his face and the side of his chest that stands out in dark relief to the silver of his skin._

_“Korgano,” she says again and she realizes that_ yes _. This is Korgano._

_She steps forward and is bathed in golden light. When she looks down, she realizes she is not dressed so differently from him. Her dress is pinned at one shoulder, draping across her breasts and down to brush the tops of her thighs. She wants to hide, wants to cover herself_ , _but he’s watching her and the look in his eyes says_ do not hide.

_She is a Goddess._

_She is_ his _Goddess._

_He steps closer and_ this _she remembers._ This _she recognizes, knows from somewhere deep inside her._

_She lets him come close._

_And then he’s on his knees before her in supplication. Her worthy subject come to worship at her feet. “Masaka…I am yours…” And in his voice is everything she could have ever hoped for._

_Adoration._

_Commitment_.

_Love._

* * *

She comes awake with a gasp, reaching out her hands blindly.

Behind her, he’s awake too. She feels him scrambling for purchase, pushing himself off the pallet. She almost falls before rolling to her knees. Ben is on his feet before she can even make sense of what’s going on and then he’s turning on her, grasping her shoulders.

He shakes her hard enough that her teeth clack together and she shoves at his chest.

“What are you –”

“We have to go to Masaka City.” The words come in one breath, rushed, frantic.

“Where?”

He shakes her again. “Masaka City. _Now._ ” He’s off and away from her before she can say another word, rushing down the short hallway and out of the shuttle. It’s dusk, she notes, and feels strangely weighed down at the thought. They’ve been asleep for the Force knows how long and all she wants to do is curl back up on the pallet and sleep the night away.

But no, he’s turning back toward her. “We have to go. _Rey_.” There’s a strange almost-whine to his voice. “ _Now_.”

She follows him. She’s not sure what else to do. He’s the only one there with her, the only one she can rely on besides herself. And there’s no _I_ there, but a _we_ right now. He wants her with him and she can’t understand why or what’s going on or even where Masaka City is, really. “Ben!” she shouts after him, but he doesn’t even respond to the name. She shouts it again, racing after him as he disappears into the edge of the forest. “Kylo!” she calls in a last desperate hope.

Nothing.

“We can’t go yet!” They need supplies. Rations, water, his cloak for bedding. There are knives and a firestarter on the shuttle. “We need to bring something with us. Just…” She runs further into the woods, afraid she’ll lose sight of him in the dim light. “Just give me a short bit of time!”

He turns, finally. “The forest will provide.” And he’s off again, his long strides taking him further into the forest and quickly beyond her line of sight in the thick trees. With a huff, she realizes she has two choices: return to the shuttle and let him go off alone or follow him with no supplies and only the hopes that the forest will indeed provide.

She stops. Indecision is not usually her thing. She’s woefully impulsive, as Luke had warned her multiple times. But this time she hesitates.

And then there’s a tug, a strange plucking of a string that’s the bond she shares with this enigmatic man.

She has to follow.

_She has no choice._

And she’s not sure if it’s her heart telling her that or the Force or _something else_. Something she can’t define, some nebulous _thing_ on this planet that calls to her, to him.

She heaves a sigh and runs to catch up with him. At least they’re in this together, whatever _this_ really is. She knows she has to see it through to its end.


	4. Chapter 4

If she were to describe their trek through the forest years later, she’s not sure what she would say. It took three days, she thinks. It all blurs together almost as soon as they reach their destination. The forest does provide. Or, at least, it tells _him_ how to provide. He collects some sort of fruit that he assures her is not poisonous. He kills an animal he knows is edible. And despite being some sort of prince (for surely, if General Organa was once a princess, Ben is a prince), he knows how to prepare it so they can make a proper meal of it.

It tastes strange and yet at the same time it’s a welcome respite from the rations she left behind on the shuttle.

It’s not easy traveling for them. During the day he shows signs of complete exhaustion and in the light of the midday sun, when she is at her most alert, he falls into a fitful slumber that she can’t pull him out of. She curls up next to him and passes the hours until he’s awake again listening to his deep breathing and the occasional strange mutterings that pass his lips.

They hit their stride again during dusk and it’s during the next evening that she finds _she_ is the one starting to tire. When she simply can’t go on anymore and collapses, he’s there to catch her, swooping her up in strong arms. She comes to some hours later and realizes she’s still in his arms and he’s still walking.

“You’re awake,” he says and there’s that amused quirk to his lips.

“Yes,” she says simply. He nods and continues walking. “You can set me down,” she points out.

He looks suitably embarrassed as he sets her on her feet. “Right, of course.”

“Thank you.”

She’s not sure what else to say and it’s clear he has no idea either. He nods and turns to walk off. This drive to _get somewhere_ hits her and she’s right at his side a moment later.

_Masaka City_.

_Yes._

They must get there. She can’t imagine _why_ but it feels important, now more than ever, even more than when they first set themselves on this path. She doesn’t know why she didn’t feel it before.

_We must_ _go there_. She feels the whisper inside her mind, pushing her forward, driving her on. We must go there and...

She has no answer to that. She doesn’t know what they’ll find once they arrive. But she _feels_ it now, the voices less discordant around her. They come together with one purpose, one _meaning_.

_Masaka City_.

“What _is_ Masaka City, do you think?” she says to him toward the beginning of the third day.

He turns to look at her and his eyes are dark, serious.

“I don’t know.”

There are red spots on his cheeks that she hasn’t seen before and she reaches up to brush her hand across one side of his face. He feels slightly warm to the touch and for the first time she wonders if they’re _infected_ with something. There are times she’s not sure if the thoughts in her head are her own. They’re not his through the bond, though she can certainly feel it running like a river beneath it all. But they’re not her thoughts either.

“Why are we going there?”

“I don’t know.”

She’s silent for a time after that. She doesn’t know either: doesn’t know what to say, what questions to ask, what they’re doing.

Finally she speaks again. “Who is Korgano?” The words come out quiet. She’s not sure she wants to know the answer.

When he turns to her, there’s a sneer on those full lips and his eyes are almost black. “ _I am._ ”

He grabs her by the arm then and swings her around and for a moment she knows real fear. But then his eyes lighten and he releases her. There’s a furrow between his brows.

“I don’t know what I’m saying.”

She takes a shaky breath. “You’re not the only one.”

* * *

The rest of the trip through the forest is uneventful. No more words are exchanged, though the worry, the fear, remains a dark current beneath them. And then in what seems like the difference from one step to the next, the trees around them are gone. There’s no thinning out slowly, no lightening of the thick canopy over their head. The trees are there one moment and the next they’re simply dumped on top of a hillside looking down on –

“What happened here?” Rey murmurs.

There’s a city. And she knows, somewhere deep inside her that they are looking down upon Masaka City. _She’s seen it before._

But it’s not a city anymore. There are buildings, but they’re crumbling into ruins. Even from this distance, she can see the blackened shells of what were once tall buildings tilting in on themselves.

Destruction.

Death.

_We shouldn’t be here_ , she realizes. But she doesn’t give voice to her fears.

Ben is already moving down the hillside. There’s no sound here except his boots, heavy on the dry grass. She goes after him, gingerly stepping where he steps. It feels almost _sacred_.

She looks to where the sun is rising past the city, the rays of light illuminating the darkened husks and what look to be a few buildings still left standing somewhere toward the middle of the city. There’s a spire shooting up from the center and she’s not sure how it can still be standing amidst so much destruction. Made of a dark purple quartz, it may be the only thing of beauty left in the forsaken place.

They trudge past the outer buildings. They’re small, little more than huts blackened with soot. She glances inside one, fearing for what she’ll find. She exhales in relief when she finds nothing there.

There’s nothing in the next building.

Or the next.

_There should be bodies here._

_There were...in her memories of the place._

They come to a few that are still half standing and Ben ducks inside one. She follows. She’s not sure what else to do really. There’s nothing much there either: a bench that’s broken in half, a few scattered chairs, a mural on one wall. She moves closer to it, trying to make see what lies behind the soot and the Maker knows how many years of neglect.

She can just barely make out a golden shield with a symbol on it. _The sun_ , her mind says. _Masaka_ , the voices supply and she shudders.

She feels him come up behind her and is surprised to feel one of his hands rest heavily on her shoulder. “There are no bodies,” she says and turns toward him. So much destruction, but no bodies, as if everyone had left before something laid waste to their city.

“There’s no one left here,” he answers and pulls her away from the mural. Somewhere, off to the far right side of it, she catches a glimpse of silver and another small symbol. When she turns to look at Ben, in a brief flash, she sees it across his forehead, as if that symbol has made its home in him. And then they’re moving out of the building.

They search another, and another one after that. There’s a pull there. “This is wrong,” he says and she turns to look at him.

“Wrong?”

“Don’t you feel it?”

He steps into another building. “It’s _wrong_!” he shouts and his fist collides with the nearest wall. “We’re in the right place but it’s _all wrong_!” Another punch to the wall and she feels the building shudder around them. They’ve disturbed something, maybe nothing more than the rot left behind after the destruction. She reaches for his hand and pulls him from the building before it can collapse.

They press forward and there’s a crawling across her skin, like ants skittering up her arms, down her legs. Her heart beats faster than it should, breath coming faster with each step they take further into the city. “Yes,” she finally says and he turns to look at her.

“You feel it too.” It’s not a question. He knows. She opens herself up to the bond for a moment.

“It’s _wrong_.” The spots on his cheeks are even more prominent now, tinged fever-red and she’s sure now that he’s fallen prey to _something._

But if he has, so has she. She feels it too. And it’s more than their bond, more than whatever this thing is that lies between them that they never speak of.  The bond sings, it aches. Her blood boils as he continues forward. His motions become more erratic all the time as he sways into a building and punches it again and again.

She watches helplessly as he loses himself to whatever this is, whatever this _rage_ is. And she feels it too _,_ racing across her skin and through arteries and veins. _She feels it too_. Crawling through her mind, making new pathways of terror into her thoughts and feelings.

_She feels it too._

When he turns around and ignites his lightsaber, she knows. She will end him, this upstart. This _Korgano_.

She is _Masaka_.

She is a _Goddess_. The sun is her domain and she will defeat this Korgano, this _nothing_. His light is weak. Hers is strong.

She will end him.

Their lightsabers clash as they come together. She snarls at him, teeth bared. He watches her, cautious and wary as always. But there’s a fire there, deep in those dark eyes of his, black and blazing, and she knows he’s every bit as invested in this fight as she is.

She thrusts and he parries, blades locking as they spin around each other. It’s a dance they know well. She twists as his blade comes near her, the heat from the unstable crackling of the weapon far too close. She takes a swing at him and he ducks underneath it, rolling on the ground and back on his feet before she has a chance to recover.

He’s on her in a moment, tackling her at the knees and taking her to the ground. She swings wildly as he tries to pin her beneath him. He won’t get her down, he won’t stop her. Her blade hits his arm, just a touch but it’s enough for him to make a small grunt of pain and gives her the time to roll clear of him and get back on her feet.

And then she’s rushing at him again, kicking at his legs and swinging her lightsaber at him. He parries and it almost catches her off guard. She falls back, rolling to keep her momentum going, coming up and waiting for him to advance. He does so quickly. His long strides take him to her without any difficulty.

He swings at her, a two-handed, powerful swing that she’s able to duck underneath. The momentum carries him beyond her and she turns then, kicking out at his knees with a vicious attack. He’s goes down then, hits the the ground and lets out a grunt of pain as she steps over him. Her foot is on the arm that still holds his lightsaber, grinding it into the steps they’ve landed on.

_Steps_.

She looks above her for a moment and she knows where she is. _This_ is where they’re supposed to be. “I will banish you from the sky forever.” And she has no idea what it means, what she’s trying to say. She lifts her own lightsaber and it feels _wrong_ in her hands, as if it should be a different weapon. With a snarl of frustration, she brings it down in a great arc toward him. _She will end him_.

_No!_

There’s enough Rey in there to fight and she strikes to wound, not to kill. The saber hits his shoulder, strikes a path down it almost identical to the one she’d left on the other side in what feels like someone else’s life. Ben Solo, Kylo Ren, _Korgano_ , falls backward with a grunt.

And then she’s walking past him, leaving him lying there to watch her through half-lidded eyes. This is where she needs to be. This is her temple. _Masaka’s_ temple.

Rey steps inside and the world goes dark around her.

* * *

_Child_.

Her eyelids flutter, eyes half opening.

_Ah, there you are._

When her eyes open fully, she blinks. This can’t be right. A moment ago, she was stepping into the ruins of an old city. What did they call it again? And now she’s…

She looks around. She’s in a field. The grass is to her knees, caressing her bare lower legs in the wind. Her dress white, draped across one shoulder and tied at her waist with a golden thread, moves gently around her as she treads carefully through a path down the middle of the grass.

She’s sure she’s seen that dress before.

_You make a lovely Masaka._

Masaka. There’s power in that name and she draws herself up, just a little bit higher. “I _am_ Masaka.” Her voice is half her own, half someone else’s. She hears thousands of voices mingled within the lone cadence.

_You are_.

“Who are you?” There’s nothing there and yet she feels it all around her, as if she’s floating within and atop it. Whatever it is that’s there is all encompassing.

Something materializes off to her side. An old woman. No…The woman comes closer and she realizes that though she is bent strangely at the waist, she is not old. She is _ageless_. Her skin glows a pale yellow, her eyes are as blue as the Jakku sky, her hair is wild about her face, the color of starflowers in bloom.

_I am everything_ , the woman says and Rey, _Masaka_ , believes it.

“Why am I here?” And this one is Rey. Masaka knows why she’s here. Rey can feel that beating at the inside of her mind, the surety of what this is, of what she must do. But Rey is still uncertain, still _there_ , her sense of self too strong to be pushed completely aside.

_You need to let go, my child,_ the woman says. Rey’s head cocks slightly to the side but she says nothing. _Come, walk with me_. The woman gestures with calm authority that indicates she is used to being obeyed.

Rey obeys.

What choice does she have, really?

_How did you come to be here?_ Her voice is almost conversational and Rey shakes her head.

“My shuttle,” she starts with. But no, that’s not really the answer. Her shuttle does not work but it started before that. “I was following a…friend,” she finishes, still not quite sure what he is to her.

_A friend? Or a lover?_ The woman sounds almost gleeful, if one can describe it that way. Gleeful and all knowing at the same time.

“A friend.”  She feels less certain of that all the time.

_Hmmmm…_

They fall silent as they keep walking. She can see no end to the grasses, no change in vegetation. “He could be more,” Rey whispers and it’s the first time she admits as much to herself. “But there are…complications?”

She’s surprised to hear the woman offer a throaty laugh. _There always are_. And then. _Your coming here with him is momentous. Others have come, my child. But they have not left_.

“How do we leave?”

_This is a worry for you_.

“Of course it is.”

_You have this planet all to yourself. You and your…friend, maybe lover. Why leave?_

Rey lets out a huff. “I have a life away from here. And he and I? We’re not…” They’re not friends, not lovers. They’re enemies, on the opposite side of a war. _But are you?_ she wonders. _Are you really?_

He can’t go back and she doesn’t know if she can. So where does that leave them?

_It ends with a death, my child._ The woman levels her gaze at Rey. _Yours_.

“Death.” She feels numb at the word. No, that’s not how it’s supposed to go. She and Ben. They’re a…team? They have each other’s backs. They need to leave this place. Together. “I can’t accept that.”

Another laugh. _Oh my child, so naïve. Is your young man as well?_

“I…”

_There are many kinds of deaths, child. Do you not know who Masaka is?_

“She’s a Goddess.” This is all she’s gotten so far. There are clues, she knows, hidden within the lore she has seen in dreams, heard in Ben’s strange mutterings. But she can’t quite find her way through the maze of clues to the conclusion. It should be obvious. Somehow she knows this, but at the same time it _isn’t_. She lets out a snarl of annoyance.

_Yes, child. That she is._ The amusement is back. The woman watches her for a moment and then looks up. Rey follows her eyes, up and further up until…

She lets out a gasp.

And it suddenly all makes sense.

“She’s the sun,” she whispers. Masaka is the sun.

_Now you see_.

“And Korgano?”

_Exactly who you think he is_.

Masaka’s polar opposite. The God of this planet’s moon. It’s why Ben keeps falling unconscious during the height of the sun. It’s why she’s dragged down at dusk and suddenly finds herself with so little energy during the night.

 “I don’t understand.”

_Our world is confusing,_ the woman muses. _Lak’tra prhn’i to_.

Rey just stares at her.

_The little death_. The woman waves a hand at her. _Go, find your young man. The ritual_ must _play out or you’ll descend into madness. And from madness…death._

She comes to a moment later, laying at the foot of a statue. For a moment, she’s not even sure who she is. Rey. Masaka. When she glances down, she’s dressed as Rey, but there’s a part of her mind that’s no longer hers. She knows the sun is just past the zenith, feels connected to it much as Rey is Force-bonded to Ben.

_The ritual must play out_.

And she knows what it is.

She is Masaka.

He is Korgano.

She stands and makes her way to the entrance of the temple, taking one last look around. It’s one of the few places left in the city that’s not in ruins and she wonders if it’s because of _this_ , luring unsuspecting travelers into its web. She shudders at the thought of landing on the planet alone, without her Korgano.

A ritual incomplete.

Madness.

Death.

When she crosses the threshold, he is there. He is still dressed in all black, but there’s a dark, wary look in his eyes.

“My Masaka,” he whispers, kneeling before her. As he should be. He is the lesser god here, she the highest of this world. And her sun, Masaka, is still at the height of its power over the day.

“Come, Korgano,” she says, reaching out her hand for him to take. He does so and she’s yet again surprised at the size and strength of his hands. His fingers surround hers, almost too warm, and he draws himself easily to his feet. She looks up at him then and smiles. “You know how this has to end.”

“Yes.” The deep notes of his voice cut right through her, leaving heat pooling deep inside. She’s never acknowledged that before. But here, now, she can. She is not wholly herself, though there’s still enough _Rey_ in there that she can appreciate the way his dark eyes follow her, the way he fills out his tunic, the dark hair that she craves to run her fingers through.

She leans close to him. “Then catch me, my dear Korgano.” She slips out of his grasp. “If you can.”

And then she’s off, nimbly racing through the streets of the ruined city. She doesn’t look over her shoulder, but she knows he’s there, can feel him through the bond and through whatever has drawn them here to this strange planet.


	5. Chapter 5

They had plunged back into the woods so long ago that Rey barely remembers the city they had found themselves in, barely remembers the Temple. She remembers the woman though, and can hear her laughter on the wind as Masaka hides behind trees and dips down ravines, always just one step ahead of Korgano.

He almost catches her once, his hand coming out to grasp at her sleeve. But she twists and is off again. She’s agile here and with the sun still in the sky, she is at nearly full strength.

Korgano trails behind her. He’s weak, foolish if he thinks he can catch her. Korgano can’t catch Masaka. He just can’t. But she hears the sound of his boots as they hit hard on the dense underbrush and occasionally hears a word muttered in a language she knows she should understand and yet doesn’t.

The sun has gone past its zenith and she can feel it, that small bit of niggling doubt in the back of her mind. She wants to rest.

_You can’t rest_.

She presses on, but she knows he’s gaining on her. And there’s nothing she can do about it. Korgano will catch her. _Hide, Masaka. Hide and live to run another day_.

Another ravine.

Another hill.

She’s climbing it when she comes out into a clearing and there she sees it, just beginning to rise up above the trees. _Korgano_.

“Masaka!”

Korgano is right behind her, rushing into the clearing not more than a handful of seconds after she does. She stops when she hears her name and turns. He stands just outside the tree line and _he is glorious_.

He stands before her beautiful and proud and sculpted of moonlight. He feels familiar and strange all at the same time, as if she should be turning away while she wants to draw closer.

“Korgano,” she says instead and draws herself up to her full height.

He stalks closer and she doesn’t give ground. The sun is dipping below the treetops.

“I will destroy you,” he murmurs as he steps in front of her.

“You need me,” she shoots back at him. “You wouldn’t exist without me.” And there’s a truth there. _She_ has nourished these worlds, has nourished Korgano, all these years.

“I would not,” he confirms. “And yet…” He shrugs one of his pale shoulders and moves his head, knocking the hair that had fallen into his eye out of the way.

“You can’t.”

He takes a step closer. She’s forced to look up at him.

“I will,” he whispers.

“You…” She’s forgotten what she intends to say as one of his hands comes up and tangles in her hair, pulling her head back and tilting her face, her _lips_ up toward him.

“You’re _mine_ ,” he growls and for a moment she’s Rey. Rey who is about to give herself to Kylo Ren in the name of…well, not entirely in the name of the ritual they need to enact. She’s still Rey. And he’s still...She’s not sure what he is. An enemy? She doesn’t think so anymore, not with _you’re not alone_. A friend? Hardly.

Maybe defining it isn’t the best thing right now.

“I’m yours,” she murmurs. “You know what you must do.”

“Yes.” He hesitates and she feels the bond flare inside them. This is new for both of them.

When he reaches out a hand to trace down the side of her face, she turns into the touch. He steps closer. She does the same, until they’re nearly chest to chest and she’s forced to look up into his to meet his eyes. _Are they really going to do this?_

_Yes_.

She feels Masaka beating at her mind, trying to push through, take over. She fights back, pushing her away but then Kylo Ren cups her face with his hand and he dips, his back bending awkwardly to come down to her level. And then his mouth presses against hers.

It’s not much of a kiss, so far as she can tell. Just a soft brushing together of those perfect lips of his against hers, close-mouthed, gentle. It’s not what she expects when it comes to him, her imagination often painting him as someone who takes and doesn’t hold back. Her hands come up to tangle in his hair and then… _then_ …it’s everything she’s wondered about, dreamed about. This man, once her enemy, knows her _soul_.

She throws the bond wide open and for a moment she’s both. Masaka, Rey. But she feels _him_ there. And she’s not sure whose thoughts and whose emotions are whose anymore. There’s need, _want_ , crashing through her and laying waste to any sort of hesitation that she might have had.

There’s an answering need in him and it rises as his hand traces down her neck, down her arm, reaching for her hand and interlacing their fingers.

“We don’t have to,” he says and she realizes he’s Ben at that moment, not Korgano. He’s broken through and his eyes look dark, haunted.  “Rey – ” He shakes his head and brings her hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to where their fingers are joined.

“Ben,” she whispers. “I want to.” And there’s the truth that she’d denied for so long. The truth she’s needed to say. She _wants_ to. She squeezes his hand, maybe a little tighter than she means to, and the pinch of it brings his eyes up to hers. She lets him in then, her consciousness tangling with his, the bond wide open. There are some things she can’t quite find the words for, but she can show him, and she does, letting him see the images as they play out in her own mind.

He draws her in for another kiss, soft and slow, and _this_ is how it’s going to go. A shiver works its way up her spine at the slide of lips and tongue and the feel of his fingers deftly working her hair out of her buns. He’s skilled at that, even if he can’t seem to find the right angle to kiss her at first. Their noses bump and he laughs into her mouth and she finds herself smiling back.

It’s strange, she realizes, touching her lips to someone else’s. His are soft and almost plush, pliant and gentle against hers. His teeth worry at her lower lip and she’s surprised to feel his tongue press against the seam of her lips. _Is this what it’s all about?_

And yes, yes it must be, she realizes as his tongue gently enters her mouth, sliding against hers and making her knees feel like jelly. Her hand releases his and she rests both on his broad shoulders, anchoring herself there against him, keeping herself upright when all she wants to do is fall back and draw him with her.

“Ben,” she murmurs and he _growls_ as he takes her lips in a fierce kiss. His hands wander down her sides until he’s reached the base of her shirt and he doesn’t have to ask twice. She pulls it off her over head, tosses it to the forest floor and presses herself against him. There’s just her breast band now to hide her modesty.

And why does she even care?

This is Ben. What does she have to hide from him? His gaze on her is steady and she shivers at the way his lips part, the way his tongue comes out to run across them. He stands still and straight as he watches her and she thrills to have so much of his attention focused on her. The bond flares around her, lit up from the inside with want and need and an emotion she’s not sure she’s quite ready to name just yet..

Masaka slips in then, pushing past the barriers she’s erected to keep her out, her mind going dark for a moment, fuzzy. Then the world around her comes back into focus with a crystal clarity her eyes have never seen before. There are _colors_ there she’s sure didn’t exist a moment ago, shades of purple and green and blue. Korgano’s looking at her and his eyes are almost black, pupils blown wide. But in their depths she can see flecks of gold and a shade of green that’s not quite one she’s imagined before.

He’s beautiful, her Korgano.

He wants Masaka, she realizes, _needs_ her.

Every night, Korgano chases her, kills her, and sends her reeling from the night sky in a blaze of shooting stars.

And so she does what she must do, reaching behind herself to find where one part of the band is tucked into another and unwinds it slowly. Korgano watches, breathing heavily. Ben watches, awed and a little overwhelmed at the feelings flowing through their bond.

_Did he ever look so enthralled with her before?_

She doesn’t remember his looking like this, teetering halfway on the edge of madness and need. It has always been what is expected of them, a simple exchange and the day is over and the night begins.

But here, now, he’s reaching out to her and pulling her close, cradling her face in his large hands, sending tremors down her spine as he lightly touches her neck. She moves it to the side, inviting him, and he reads her like some sort of ancient textbook. His lips press against her neck briefly, before they find the pulse point where her neck meets her shoulders and he suckles there. His teeth worry the skin, but never so hard that he bruises her.

He’s delicate with her.

She’s not sure she wants delicate.

_Have they ever done delicate before?_

“Korgano.” She growls his name and he looks up, meeting her eyes. Her lips meet his then, harsh, forceful. Her hands are on his tunic and he helps her as he shrugs it the rest of the way off. It’s not an easy thing to undo, too many fastenings and the sleeves aren’t even connected to it. With another impatient growl, she tears at the sleeves.

He laughs.

She’s never heard such a thing.

_Has she_?

But they’re stripped off in a moment’s notice, tossed aside like so much garbage. He doesn’t give her much time to study him, though she has hazy memories of seeing that chest much like it is now. _Do you have a cowl or something_ …She…no… _Rey_ …Rey hadn’t wanted to see him so bared, so _human_.

When he presses back to her, feeling of all that hot skin against her own can’t compare to the dreams she’s had about this moment. For a moment _Rey_ is there, pushing Masaka out, reveling in the feel of him, reveling in the way his strong arms tighten around her, the way he picks her up as if she weighs nothing and lays her down on the soft grass they’re standing on.

“Masaka,” he says and there’s reverence there in his voice. “Let me worship you.”

“I was made to be worshipped,” she responds with.

He lets out a strange almost-whimper, somewhere in the back of his throat and leans over her. Her legs part of their own volition and he crawls in between them. She feels wanton like this, laid out half-bare in a clearing on a foreign planet. She’s the sacrifice here, about to be taken by this man, this _God_. She can’t stop the breathy little keening noise that comes out of her throat and he smiles at that, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“Yes.” And she’s not sure what he’s even responding to anymore. “Yes, you were.” It doesn’t matter. Why would it matter? It certainly doesn’t when his lips are on her neck, on her collarbone, dipping lower to lick at the underside of one of her breasts.

And those he _does_ worship, with tongue and teeth and fingers that pluck at the nipple until she’s writhing beneath him. Wanting more. _Needing_ more.  

“Korgano,” she murmurs, a breathy sigh that she never could have imagined coming from her own mouth.

_But you are not Rey, are you?_

_You’re Masaka._

She doesn’t know who she is anymore and she’s not sure it matters. Korgano – Kylo Ren – Ben...he’s moving down her stomach, pressing open mouthed kisses along the hard planes of it. She should be embarrassed. She’s not a soft woman, her body honed in the Jakku dessert and from years of fighting to retain what’s hers. She’s alternately been nothing more than skin and bones and all well-honed muscles.

But he doesn’t seem to care. No, instead, he nips at her belly, just above where her pants end and she can feel the want flowing through the bond. He finds her body attractive and it’s a heady feeling, knowing that someone wants her for her. Not for what she can do, not because she’s the only scavenger who’s old enough to approach. No, this one finds _her_ attractive.

He traces one finger under the band of her pants and she knows what he’s asking. There’s no going back from here, no returning to who and what they are. _You’re Masaka_. It’s like a mantra in her mind and she’s not sure if she’s trying to convince herself or if it’s just that voice talking to her.

Masaka.

Sun Goddess.

And he is her Korgano.

She nods, once, and he hesitates. When she looks down at him, the eyes she meets are _not_ Korgano’s and she feels thrown out of the moment. “Ben?” she whispers.

“I haven’t…”

“Me neither,” she answers.

Her hands reach down and tug lightly at his hair and with a growl _he_ is back. Korgano. _He_ has done this. She has no doubt of it. The fiery look in his eyes, the way his lips draw back in an almost-feral smile as he tugs her pants down, taking her underwear with it. She’s bared to him and she wants to press her legs together, cover herself up, but he won’t let her. No, her Korgano presses her legs apart and leans down to nip at her hip bone, the crease between her thigh and abdomen.

And then he’s hovering over her and he pushes her legs even further apart. He doesn’t look up at her, his eyes completely focused on the juncture of her thighs. She finds she wants to press her legs back together, but no, she lets him pull them wider apart and reach out a hand to lightly touch her.

It’s like electricity has gone through her, like he took all the power of her lightsaber and touched it to the moisture pooling in her core. Her back arches up automatically and she wants to just get closer to him, to spread her legs and draw him in until their hearts meld together, until they’re the same person.

He does little else for a moment, just taking that one finger and pressing it through the slickness he finds. She watches him. His eyes so focused, lips slightly parted, as if he can barely believe that this is where all of this has led. “I need to…” He shakes his head.

She knows what he needs to do.

She feels the blush start at her cheeks and work its way down the rest of her body. “Yes,” she whispers and her hands come up to tangle in all that thick black hair. She’s not even sure what she’s agreeing to, but she trusts him.

Her Korgano.

Her _Ben_.

He’ll take care of her.

_She trusts him_.

She pushes up on her elbows to watch him and when he leans down closer, her legs spread a little further apart. His nose touches her and she realizes he’s breathing her in. She wants to feel embarrassed at that. Do people do this? Really?

But then he presses a tentative kiss to her and her hips buck, almost violently. He pushes back away from her and she almost apologizes. But the slow smile that forms on his face stops that apology before it can get any further.

He leans forward again, this time holding her hips down, and she almost laughs at that. His large hands dig just a little bit harder into her hips as he steadies her. Then he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses to her core, those soft lips encircling her clit. They’re made for this, she realizes, made for this sort of pleasure. Plush and soft and perfect as he drags his lips across her slick folds.

Back and forth.

Over and over.

She’s practically sobbing, her hands in his thick hair, as she presses him toward something. She needs more. This softness is _not enough_.

And finally he laps at her with his tongue and she knows that _this_ is what she needs. His lips suckle at her clit; his tongue presses against it, swirling softly against her most sensitive part. She lets out a noise she wasn’t sure she could even make, begging for more. _More_. He pauses for a moment and she looks down at him.

He releases one side of her hips, allowing her to throw her legs as wide as she can. And then one of his fingers, those lovely thick fingers that she’s only begun to truly appreciate, presses inside her. She’s experimented on herself, pressed her own slender fingers inside herself to see what it feels like.

But this?

_Oh, this_.

This is like nothing she’s ever imagined. His finger slides in and out of her and then he adds another and she feels so wonderfully full that when he brings his mouth back to that small bundle of nerves, it takes almost nothing to send her over that edge. Her whole body tenses; she lets out a strangled cry and she’s not sure if it’s his name, if it’s _Korgano_ or _Kylo_ or _Ben_ , or just something completely incoherent. And then it all lets loose as the world goes completely white around her, a rainbow of colors behind her eyes as they drift shut.

Her consciousness slams back into her. She feels Masaka flee and opens her eyes to see the sun has dipped behind the horizon and it’s turned to a purple twilight around them.

Ben is motionless where he still lays between her spread legs. And she leans up again to look at him. He’s staring at her, his mouth almost obscenely wet with her juices. His fingers are still inside her. But he’s just _staring,_ his mouth open in a small “o,” his brows drawn low over eyes half-squinted shut.

“Ben?” she says and it seems to break the spell over him. He pushes back, his fingers sliding out of her and leaving her feeling bereft at their absence. He’s up and on his feet, turning away from her. She can see he’s breathing hard as he paces in a circle before striding away from her. He reaches one of the nearby trees, leans close to it, head down, forehead against the rough bark.

When he slams his fist into the tree, she’s on her feet and after him, pulling him away from the unfortunate trunk. “What are you doing?” Her voice is breathless as she reaches out to him and as he turns back, she’s keenly aware that she’s not wearing a stitch of clothing.

“I…” She’s surprised to see the blush that starts on his cheeks and goes right up to the tip of his over-sized ears. He brushes back his thick hair and closes his eyes.

She moves a step closer to him and is surprised to see him jump back, his arms going around the expanse of his _all too naked_ chest. He’s still flushed and she finds herself trying to focus no lower than his collarbone for the moment.

“Ben?”

“I shouldn’t have.” The words are mumbled. “You wouldn’t have wanted…”

She reaches out to touch his arm and he flinches back.

“I don’t understand,” she murmurs and now _she_ feels self-conscious. He’s very pointedly looking _everywhere_ but at her.

“You – ” He cuts off there with a huff of frustration, hand forming into a fist.

“You think I didn’t want you.” It’s a statement, not a question. She knows. She can still feel the churning of his emotions through the bond. It’s half-closed now, as if he’s trying to shove himself out in anticipation of some sort of hurt.

“How could you?” The words explode out of him.

“Ben, look at me.” He turns his head toward her but he still can’t meet her eyes. She reaches up and lightly touches his cheek. “Do you really believe that?”

“I have no reason not to.” There’s a bitterness behind the words, all sharp glass and self-directed hatred. His arms cross even more firmly over his chest.

“Then I don’t think you know me at all.” She turns away from him and tries to pull her wayward emotions into herself. She needs to gather up her clothes. This is over, she realizes. She plumbs the depths of her memories, pushes through the fog that had tried to obscure her mind. Masaka is gone. She feels it, deep inside. Her duty to her has been released.

Standing there in the moonlight, she realizes that Korgano has done his duty as well. He has “killed” Masaka and risen to take her place.

But where does that leave them? She takes a shaky breath and tries to push the tears away. Back where they started? Enemies? But she remembers that he can no longer go back to the First Order. And she’s not sure about going back to the Resistance, though she’s certain they’ll accept her.

_Will they?_ comes the unbidden thought.

_Will they take you back, knowing what you have with Kylo Ren? What you’ve_ done _with Kylo Ren?_ Rose knows and she knows she’ll accept her however she comes. But everyone else? That remains to be seen and she’s not quite sure she wants to address this with them.

She’s picking up her breast band when she feels a tentative brush against her shoulder. There’s an equally tentative brush into her mind and she opens up, lets him feel everything in there.

Behind her, she hears him let out a small strangled noise, somewhere in the back of his throat.

“I told you,” she says and hates the way her heart half-breaks on the words. “You don’t know me at all.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Rey.” His voice is deep and she can feel the dark confusion battering at her mind. “Rey, turn around.”

She takes a deep breath. This is the moment. She can wrap the breast band around herself, gather the rest of her clothes, and return to the shuttle, leaving all this behind. Or she can drop it, turn, and face whatever is between them. She never for a moment had doubts about what they just did. Certainly part of it was to get them off this planet. But she also knows a part of it was simply _freedom:_ freedom to make her own choice, freedom to be with him, no matter what might happen after.

So she does what she has to do.

And she turns, dropping the band and facing him. Her shoulders are thrown back and though she knows she must be red from her cheeks down to her chest, she stands proud before him.

“Would you really have…” He lets the words trail off as he meets her eyes and then his gaze travels down her and back up. She’s allowing him to look his fill and he knows it, can feel the dare through the bond. She _wants_ him to look and so opens her mind and body to show him.

“Done that?” she offers up and smiles softly. He looks like he’s considering bolting. “Do you really have to question it?”

“Yes,” he shoots back. “Yes I do. I’ve never…I don’t…”

“Neither have I.” Her voice is still soft. “But I wanted to.”

“You…” His mouth opens and closes a couple times.

She doesn’t say anything else for a moment. He seemed so sure of himself. And she never quite imagined that the great Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, was as inexperienced as she is. _How is that possible? Surely the First Order_ …

“I did.” She offers a shy smile. “I still do.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment and she’s not sure if she’s said the right thing. _Does he?_

“Ben,” she whispers. Still he just stares, his arms wrapped around his bare chest, as if he can somehow collapse into himself and hide there. “Please say something.” _Or_ do _something._ She feels a sob creeping up the back of her throat. This isn’t how she imagined this going at all.

_And you_ did _imagine it, didn’t you?_

She did, as Rey, as Masaka. She can’t deny that, can’t deny _him_.

And so when he moves, she opens her arms and lets him swoop in on her. His lips are on hers in an instant and she can feel the tremors wracking his body. She opens to him immediately, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight to her. He’s so much larger than her, her arms barely able to get around the massive bulk of his upper body. She presses her hands on his back, stroking lines down from his shoulders to his waist. His muscles ripple under her fingers as he suddenly lifts her.

Her arms wrap around his shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist. She can feel him there, pressing into her, hard and hot. She _likes_ this position, where there’s just _so much_ of him and so much of their bodies connected. The bond is right there and as tongues meet and teeth accidentally knock together, she’s not sure whose pleasure she’s feeling.

She feels both light as the air and strong at the same time. As if she can do _anything,_ and it’s because of this man. Kylo Ren. Korgano. “Ben,” she murmurs into his lips.

He breaks off the kiss and sets her gently back on the ground. But his hands don’t leave her waist and he’s staring at her and she’s never _seen_ him look like this. His lips are red, bruised almost; there’s a suspicious sheen to his eyes and his hair is wild in the wind that their lovemaking seems to be drawing up around them.

There’s a storm and they’re the eye in the center. It’s peaceful there as he brings his hand up to her cheek. “Say it again.”

She brings her hand up to cover his and smiles at him. “Ben,” she whispers and watches a tear wind its way down his cheek. “ _My_ Ben.”

He kisses her again and this time it’s tender, sweet. She pulls back slightly, reaching out to grasp his hand and pull him down with her. The ground is soft beneath her knees as she kneels, soft against the skin of her back as she lays down and pulls him close to her. For a moment they do nothing else. He lays at her side, their eyes meet and there’s that moment of both awe and awkwardness as they wait for the other to make the next move.

She pulls him to her first. She’s somehow always known she would have to take the lead. He goes willingly. Of course he does. The bond shifts and presses around them, its own living thing, wrapping them in the beauty of the Force.

His lips trail fire down her neck, her chest. She reaches down and tries to find the edge of his pants. “You’re overdressed,” she murmurs and is rewarded with what she’s coming to realize is Ben’s laugh.

“I am, it seems.” There’s humor behind the words and he shifts away to pull his boots off and push his pants down. There’s a moment of amusement that comes across the bond when he tries to pull them off and they get stuck on one foot, but it passes as he turns back to her. He starts to come back over her and she reaches out and stops him.

“No,” she whispers. “It’s my turn.” And as he leans back, his cheeks flushed, the tips of his ears red, she pushes to her side and presses closer to him.

He’s beautiful, she realizes. All long lines and sleek hard muscles beneath soft skin. She’s not seen many men, if she’s honest with herself. Dirty scavengers stripping off at the local watering hole to try to clean off. But they don’t look like _this_. She runs a hand across the muscles of his chest and slides them across one of his nipples. It puckers like her own do and she wonders if it’s as sensitive as hers, if he would enjoy some of the same that she did to him. So she leans over and touches her lips to the nearest one.

His body jerks beneath her and he lets out a soft hiss.

“I’m sorry.”

“No don’t,” he says quickly, his hand tangling in her hair. “Don’t apologize. I liked it.” The last words are quiet and she smiles. _He didn’t know_. She leans in again and does the same, opening her mouth over the small flat nipple and using her tongue across it as he did with hers. He jerks again and she presses her hand into his abdomen, trying to keep him still as she suckles at it, laves it with her tongue. When she nibbles at it, just a little ( _not too hard_ , she thinks), he lets out a soft moan.

She looks up at him and her face heats at the intensity of his gaze. He nods at her, a small motion of his head, and so she looks back down. There’s so much skin here, so much muscle. She remembers how it felt for his lips and tongue and teeth to trace down her abdomen, so she mimics that, one hand moving a little lower to toy with the hair that starts just below his belly button and leads lower. She’s not quite ready to go _there_ yet, so she spends time leaning over him, tracing the ridges of his muscles with her tongue and teeth, nibbling at the edge of his hip.

When she turns her head, she can see him there. Thick and hard, jutting proudly up from the sparse hair at the base. She studies him from her vantage point just over at his hip. This isn’t something she’s seen before. Oh, she’s seen the shriveled cocks of scavengers who are proud to strip off and bathe in front of all and sundry, but she’s never seen one in this state. It looks painful, skin stretched over the length, flushed red and weeping just a little at the top.

_Does she dare?_

She looks up at him and his head his thrown back, his breathing a little too rapid, a little too shallow. _Yes,_ she thinks. _Yes, she should dare_. She knows how it felt to have him touch her, taste her, and she thinks he might like the same thing. Besides, the truth is that she _wants_ to. She wants to feel it, to wrap her hand around it, to feel everything that he is, centered right there.

When her hand just barely wraps around it, he lets out another hiss and almost throws himself back from her. “Didn’t you…” she starts to say and he’s staring at her, wild-eyed and half-crazed.

“Yes,” he mutters. “But if you do that…” He lets out a small huff of a laugh and she can feel the embarrassment through the bond. She removes her hand. She doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable in any way. This is supposed to be fun, right? She’s not sure that’s the right word. What he did to her was amazing and absolutely beyond comprehension, and she wants him to feel the same.

He groans and she realizes that his mind has dipped into hers and is following her thoughts a little too closely. She presses her hand into the skin of his abdomen. He’s hard everywhere, she realizes. She’s not exactly soft; the years scavenging on Jakku and her continued training with her lightsaber have made her slender and strong. But he’s stronger and his muscles ripple and bunch beneath her hand.

“Rey,” he murmurs and she can sense it, can _see_ it. She knows what he wants her to do.

“Have you imagined this?” she asks and he groans.

“Not exactly.”

“No?” She can’t believe how free she feels. “I think you have.”

“Maybe a little.” The words are whispered and the flush that’s started on his cheeks moves down his chest.

She takes a deep breath. This is _daring_. She’s not spent much time imagining how it could be between them, between _anyone_ really. She’s seen the dirty men of Niima Outpost rutting against the willing women there, pressing them into the ground or the side of a building. They’re always on top, pressing into the woman’s body, taking control. The women look bored. _Good credits_ , she’s heard them say.

But this is different.

She feels like she’s boarding her speeder as she draws herself up and swings a leg somewhat gracelessly over his body. But then she can feel him pressing there, the tip of his cock, soft and hard at the same time, sliding through the slickness still left from when he used his mouth on her.

He says her name. Once. Twice. Then: “Are you sure?”

She looks down at him, meets his eyes. He’s earnest and he means it. He won’t take her, not unwillingly, and she wonders if this is why he has such a lack of experience. Did no one come to him willingly?

“I didn’t want to,” he says in answer to the question that must have come across the bond. “There was…” He takes a deep breath. “Only you. I can’t imagine it being anyone else. I don’t _want_ it to be anyone else.”

_I don’t either_. She knows it’s sent across the bond because she sees his eyes widen. And then she reaches around behind her to line him up with her. _Yes_. This is what they’re made for. For each other. _Always._

“Yes, always,” he says and she slides down just a little. The tip of his cock, wider than the rest of it, slides into her and she feels _full_. Maybe a little uncomfortable. Compared to this part of him, even his thick fingers were nothing, inconsequential at best. “Does it…”

“It doesn’t hurt,” she answers quickly and moves a little further down. She takes it slow. He’s large, which should not surprise her considering the sheer size of him. Hands, ears, nose – why wouldn’t his cock be just as big as the rest of his features? “You’re...large,” she says with a wry grin.

“Well, that’s the way to a man’s heart, certainly.”

She pauses there, halfway down him. “Do I have your heart?” It’s not a question she’s dared ask before, not something she’s ever been sure she really wants to know. But here? Now?

“You know the answer to that,” he says quickly and grits his teeth as she moves again, letting him slide home.

She can’t stop the little _oh_ of pleasure that comes out as he fills her completely. “This is…” Are there words? Can there be words? No, she thinks not.

Especially not as he reaches out to her hips and lifts her slightly, pulling her off him just a hair and then pulling her back down. “Oh, Force,” she groans and he does it again. Pushing her up and down in quick little jerks.

It feels _amazing_. That slide of his thick cock, dragging against her inside.

Like nothing she could ever have imagined.

And she looks down at him and his face is strangely contorted, sweat beading on his brow, dampening the hair. He almost looks like he’s in pain.

She hesitates.

His eyes fly open and meet hers.

_Are you…_

She can hear the words make their way through the bond. _Are you sure?_ He’s so uncertain. She is too, to be honest. She has no experience in this, outside of one chaste kiss from one of the other scavengers, a young boy close to her age, an experiment. She hadn’t enjoyed it.

But this - she’s sure _this_ is what she had been waiting for.

She bites her lip, nods.

He moves quickly then, pushing himself up, wrapping his arms around her and twisting. He comes out of her for a second as she finds herself on her back on the soft grass, Ben above her. She welcomes him back in between her spread legs and he obliges.

Well, he misses at first.

She lets out a small grunt that ends with a small laugh and for a second she’s afraid she’s embarrassed him. But then he meets her eyes and there’s a small crooked grin on his face, one side of his full lips tilted up just a little. She pushes herself up on her elbows and kisses him then, kisses that wonderful, beautiful mouth that has the ability to do such amazing things to her. She wonders if he knows how beautiful he is, how his soulful eyes drive right through her, how his lips make her a little weak at the knees, how much she actually likes those ridiculous ears he tries to hide. She suspects he doesn’t and for a moment that makes her sad.

But then he kisses her again and manages to line himself up correctly, sinking back inside her body. It’s not even uncomfortable this time and she groans as she feels properly filled, the width of his cock hitting all those spots inside her that she never knew were there. Her nerve endings are on fire and when he starts to move, dragging himself along them, she wraps her legs around his hips, her arms around his chest, and loses herself in the rhythm.

 He sets a fast pace and it’s not long before he’s panting over her, his breath quick against her shoulders. “I can’t..” he starts to say and she pulls him tighter to her. Her body clenches around him and then he’s driving into her. Fast. Faster. His hands come up and grip her around the hips as he thrusts hard into her body. _I can’t hold on_. She can hear his voice in her head, the frantic worry behind them.

_Then don’t,_ she sends back.

And he doesn’t. His rhythm stutters and he pushes into her hard, holding her tight to him as he lets out a throaty growl. She can feel him there, warm and amazing, can feel him pulsing inside her and she holds him close to her as he lets go. His face is contorted, his eyes screwed shut, and she finds it fascinating to watch him as he rides out his pleasure deep inside her.

When he’s spent, he falls heavily on her for a moment before rolling them to the side, still joined, one of her legs thrown over his hip. He tucks her close into him and for a time there’s nothing more than their slowing breaths, his heartbeat against her ear, racing in time with her own before steadying.

She’s not sure how long they lay like that. Her hands lightly caress his sweat-slicked back and his hand presses against the back of her head, playing with the hair there. But she shifts a little as the ground becomes a little harder beneath her than she would like and he finally pulls back a little.

She feels somewhat bereft at the feeling of him pulling out of her and she clings to him for just a moment before pulling back up and meeting his eyes. They’re dark, pupils still blown wide.

“I’m sorry,” he says and there’s a strange, sheepish look about his face.

She presses one finger to his lips. “Don’t apologize for anything.”

“I got carried away,” he tries to say against her finger and she almost laughs at the ticklish vibrations.

“I’m not glass. I won’t break.”

“I..”

“You didn’t hurt me.” He looks a little confused at her words and finally she takes her hand away from his mouth.

“I thought I would last longer.” The words come out on a rush.

“That’s what this is about?” She laughs. Laughs because it’s glorious and amazing and he’s naked at her side, his powerful body half curled in on himself. “Don’t.” The word is firm and she hates the way he looks somewhat chastised, like a dog someone had just kicked. “Don’t apologize. There’s no reason to.”

She stands then, as naked as the day she was born. She can feel the stickiness between her legs, can feel what’s left of their lovemaking, the imprints of hands and mouth on her body. “Come, Ben,” she says as she holds out her hand to him. “We should find a creek and wash up.”

He nods as he puts his hand in hers and pulls himself to his feet. She’s not shy about watching him now, not like the first time she saw him.

“Don’t I…” he starts to say, clears his throat. “Don’t I need a cowl or something?”

She stares at him for a moment and then laughs. And he _joins_ her. It sounds rusty on him, a soft little huffing noise that is clearly unused. She could get used to this. Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader (former Supreme Leader?), laughing, smiling.

As they move to gather up their clothing, she thinks that maybe they should just _stay_ there. Maybe it would be easier: no First Order, no Resistance, no war. Just them.

But then again, she realizes, when had she ever gone for easy?


	7. Chapter 7

They bathe in the first creek they find. It’s shallow and cold, but refreshing at the same time. She’s not shy about stripping down in front of him now. He still is and she enjoys watching the way he blushes as she studies him.

“You weren’t so shy that first time,” she points out as he attempts to cover himself before wading into the deep part of the creek.

He turns even redder and she laughs as he plunges in, shivering in the frigid water. “I thought your reaction was interesting,” he says when he’s hidden up to his waist in the water.

His chest is still on display, much as it was back then, nipples puckered as he wraps his arms around himself. She can’t help but watch. She couldn’t then, either. He’s an attractive man, tall and strong with eyes that see right through her and lips that she now knows are almost sinfully meant for kissing.

And for other things.

She wades in after him and lets out a little shriek as the water hits her calves, her thighs, and finally comes up to just below her breasts. He’s almost studiously avoiding looking at them, meeting her eyes and then looking slightly over her shoulder. “You can look.” The words are soft and he finally does, glancing down and then back up quickly. “Ben,” she says with a laugh. “After all we’ve done?”

“I told you…”

“I know.” And this is said with a kindness, a softness she feels she needs to approach him with. “How was that even possible?”

He shakes his head at that, his lips turned downward in a grimace. “You ask that? Of me?” One hand swipes in the air, from head down to toes. She knows what he means, but she doesn’t understand it.

“Yes.” It’s almost more a question.

“Finish bathing,” he says and the words are firm, but not harsh. “And we’ll talk.”

* * *

“I was an awkward child,” he says by way of introduction to the topic. They had finished their impromptu bath in the frozen creek, dressed, and went on their way without another word. She wasn’t sure he was really going to open up about anything, but here on this strange planet, after all that had been shared between them, she thinks maybe it’s possible. “And an even more awkward teenager.” The words are a little rueful. “I was trucked off to _him_ at a young age and went between being star pupil and the most troublesome one. I was… _haunted_.”

“By Snoke,” she says softly.

“By Snoke,” he confirms. “And my own demons.”  He’s quiet for some time and they continue their walk. It’s easier this time. No rush to be somewhere, no worries about what this place is doing to them. _No one else in their minds_.

“Demons?” she finally ventures.

He doesn’t respond.

“Ben?”

“I think that says it all.” The words are tight and she chooses, perhaps wisely, not to pursue that line of questioning. He’s said more in those moments than he ever has before. Opening up isn’t easy for him. It’s not for her, either, if she’s honest, but she’s opened up to him before. _You’re not alone._ And she’s still certain she’s not. He’s always there, on the edges of her mind.

“Ben?” she says after nearly a half hour of walking. He turns his head to look at her and she links her arm through his. “Thank you.”

He nods and she feels the relief flow across the bond. Maybe someday she’ll understand him, but she suspects there are so many layers of demons that she may never be able to break through them all.

* * *

It’s as they settle down for their second night of making camp that she realizes she doesn’t _want_ to part ways from him and she wants to find all those demons and defeat them. She’s not sure what that means exactly. There’s a turmoil deep inside her and yet it’s soothed every time he puts a hand on her, every time her eyes meet his.

It feels _right_ to be with him.

It feels _right_ to fight at his side.

They make love by the firelight and it’s soft and slow, none of the rushed nature of their first time, none of those frantic feelings of _is this really us_ or _are we really doing the right thing_. The bond flows through them, sizzles on their skin, and when he takes her this time she knows that it’s the right thing.

It can’t be anything else.

The Force has connected them, bonded them, as if they’re soulmates.

_Maybe they are_.

As they lay there in the aftermath, she opens up her mind to him and lets him feel her contentment, her happiness. “Ben?” she ventures tentatively.

“Hmmm?” He’s lying on his side, lazily playing with her hair. His eyes are half-shut and he looks like a great big beast who just ate a large, satisfying meal.

“Luke talked about balance…” She sees him tense up and reaches out a hand to soothe him. It’s getting easier these days, the feel of her hands, the openness of the bond. It seems to settle him when nothing would before. “In the Force?”

“Did he now?”

“He did. ‘Powerful light, powerful darkness.’ I could feel it, there on the island. It was all around us.”

“Where were you anyway?” he says with a small quirk of his lips.

“Ahch-To,” she answers honestly. There’s nothing left there for him or anyone in the First Order to destroy. Luke is gone, one with the Force, and she has the Jedi texts. What could they do there but destroy a bunch of innocent porgs?

“That makes sense,” he murmurs.

“It was…wet,” she says with a small laugh. “I’d never seen so much water in my entire life.”

“No,” he responds with, serious. “You wouldn’t have.” They fall silent for a moment and Ben finally heaves a sigh. “Luke Skywalker never talked about balance when I was a Padawan. The dark side was to be feared. It was to be avoided at all costs.” There’s a bitterness there that she’s not sure she’ll ever be able to make sense of. “If I even used the Force in some way he deemed ‘dark’ I was chastised and punished. I reminded him too much of my grandfather apparently. It’s just too bad I didn’t know how much like him I was.”

“They didn’t talk of him?”

He lets out a snort and gathers her into his arms. “I didn’t know that Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader were the same person. Luke said very little about him. And my mother and father? Nothing. It was like he hadn’t existed.”

“That’s…” She doesn’t have words for what it is, exactly. The entire galaxy knows of Darth Vader and his return to the light thanks to Luke Skywalker.

“Yes.”

“They kept it from you. On purpose?”

She feels his jaw clench against the top of her head. “I don’t know if it was purposeful or one of those things where no one knew how to tell me. And then it was too late. I found out from someone else, same time as the rest of the galaxy.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs and he just holds her close.

There’s nothing more that she can think to say and so she just lays there, his strong arms circling her, feeling his heartbeat even out against her cheek.

* * *

They arrive back at the shuttle, both exhilarated and exhausted at the same time. It’s been a long trek there and back. Days of walking, days of making love on their way. Ben seems more carefree than he has before, but there’s still an edge to him. He’s still too quick to anger, too quick to grab his lightsaber or to throw a cutting remark.

She feels his remorse and his confusion coming across the bond through most of the days they’ve trudged through the forest to find their shuttles.

She’s sure he must feel her worry about what the future holds, where they go from here. They have to leave together. His shuttle is never going to fly again. She suspects it will eventually shift further and fall down the cliff to slowly decay far away from prying eyes, one small mark of their time here.

When they finally break through the forest back into the clearing, she breathes a sigh of relief and feels him tense up next to her.

He stops there. Stops and stares and when she turns to look at him, his face is almost completely unreadable. She says his name softly, tentatively, and he just shakes his head in response.

“Is there anything you need from your shuttle?” she says as he starts to move forward again.

“Nothing I can’t leave behind.” There’s a grim acceptance behind the words.

She puts a hand on his arm for a moment and then steps away. “Then let’s see if this thing will work now?”

He nods. “I think it will.” And still he sounds so grim, but he follows her anyway, his boots heavy on the ground as he moves behind her.

The shuttle feels less cramped this time, even though he’s still just as large as before. Maybe it’s that she’s more at ease with him, even if he’s clearly not at ease. He paces the small cockpit until she reaches out a hand to stop him and tries to force him into the co-pilot’s seat.

He sits with a huff. “I don’t know which I’m hoping for.” There’s a small, rueful quirk of his lips.

“You want to stay here?”

“Here there’s no one who wants me dead.”

“You think,” she says and laughs. It feels good to laugh.

“I don’t think you ever wanted to kill me,” he says and the words are serious. “You had your chance. More than once.”

“I never would have taken it,” she whispers.

“Nor I.” His words confirm what she always wondered. Even back on Starkiller base. Oh, he had been wounded certainly, but she doesn’t fool herself for a moment. If he had wanted to kill her, she wouldn’t be here. Instead, he’d offered to teach her and then let himself be taken down when the Force filled her and her rage outpaced his.

He’s the one who reaches out this time, his hand touching hers gently. She turns hers so that her fingers entwine with his, somehow more intimate than anything they’ve shared so far. She doesn’t know why, really. She remembers that first brush of fingers, the first time they touched skin to skin, and just how sharp and painful and beautiful it was.

This is far more so.

Fingers entwined and the feeling of the bond’s contentment at the contact.

They say nothing more and she turns, one hand still in his, to begin the start-up sequence. Her finger hesitates over the button to begin the launch and she turns to look at him.

“Do it,” he murmurs. “We can’t really stay here.”

The corners of her mouth turn up slightly. She knows the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “No, I suppose we can’t.” She presses the button.

For a moment nothing happens.

She releases a breath and she’s not sure if it’s a sigh or a huff of frustration. Maybe something slightly in between. She’d at least like the _choice_ of staying or leaving.

But then the shuttle vibrates under them and lifts off the ground. Ben offers her a tight smile and releases her hand so she can maneuver them out of the planet’s atmosphere and into the vacuum of space above.

As they leave the planet’s gravitational pull and everything becomes dark and peaceful around them, there’s a strange beeping sound from the shuttle and she starts scanning through the read-outs that are appearing on the screens in front of her.

“What –” she murmurs and gets one of the pages to stop. “The D’Arsay System.” The words come out far breathier than she is used to.

Ben leans forward slightly in his seat to read along with her. “The D’Arsay System? That’s what _they_ called this system?”

“It would seem so.” More pages scroll by and Rey shakes her head. “It seems, somehow, they’ve given us… _them_.” She sees pages with lists of what she assumes are names, births and deaths, pages of history, music, art.

“That’s what this was all about,” he mutters. “They lure people there, hoping someone will leave with _them_?”

“It seems so.”

“Wow. But then, why…” She feels the blush creep over her cheeks and is surprised to see the same blush across his.

“Maybe…” He clears his throat, looks away, and she finds that she wants to laugh. No, not laugh. It’s not funny really. But she finds this weird feeling she can’t even explain bubble up inside her.

“Maybe that was what _we_ had to do?”

“Break a curse?” he says right on the heels of her words.

“Is that what it was?”

“Korgano chases Masaka from the sky. And then it repeats.”

She nods. “She dies and he rises in her place. But she said nothing about _his_ death.”

He looks pensive for a moment. “Perhaps we completed the ritual without even realizing it.”

“Love saves the day,” she murmurs.

And then realizes what she’s said. She didn’t mean to, not exactly. But the words are there and she can’t take them back. She looks away from him.

“Do you?” he says and there’s an earnestness there, almost shy, and she can’t meet his eyes.

“I…” What does she say? What does she know of love, anyway. Thrown away by her parents, left to fend for herself in the desert of Jakku, abandoned at every turn. She knows nothing of friendship and even less of love. “I think so?”

“I see,” he says and there’s a coldness to the words as he pulls away from her.

She turns to him, reaching out her hand to grasp his again. He feels cool against her skin, the palms of his hands clammy. “Ben, don’t.” She realizes what his reaction means and she tries to stop her heart from taking flight. “I know nothing of love.”

He stops pulling away and meets her eyes. “Rey?” And the way he says her name almost breaks her heart.

“How would I? I’ve never loved anyone before. And no one has ever loved _me_.”

“ _I_ love you.” The words are simple. Just three tiny words and she feels her heart soar. She grips his hand harder.

“Give me time to understand?”

He cups her face and touches his lips to hers, briefly, nothing like the passion of the kisses they shared on the planet. “All of it,” he whispers against her lips. “You can have all the time in the world.”

She closes her eyes, rests her forehead against his for a moment. And then: “Where do we go from here?”

He stiffens slightly. “There’s nowhere I can go.” The words are slightly bitter. “The First Order wants me dead. I’m sure the Resistance doesn’t feel much different.”

She’s not sure he’s totally wrong. But his mother is still there and surely she could…

“She won’t do anything,” he mutters.

“Stop listening to my thoughts.” There’s no real ire behind the words.

“If you want to go back, we’ll go back,” he says with a finality that she’s sure comes about from his belief that once he does, he’s a dead man walking. There’s only one person he believes wants him alive.

“Well,” she says after a moment. “I would like to go back eventually.”

He raises one eyebrow in response.

“But maybe not just yet? Maybe we need to find _our_ balance first?”

He doesn’t have to say anything in that moment. The bond hums between them, a contented thing as long as they’re touching, as long as they’re in harmony.

She leans forward and presses a series of buttons, leaning back as the ship makes the jump to hyperspace, the windows around them going blue.

“Where are we going?” His voice is almost conversational, as if they didn’t just make a momentous decision.

She shrugs. “Somewhere in the Unknown Regions. It’ll take at least a few days to get there from here.”

“A few days,” he murmurs. “And just what do you propose we do with all that time?”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

He’s gathers her up in his arms before she can even say another word and she lets out a small shriek. As he carries her back toward the tiny pallet that they had slept on what seems like a lifetime ago, she feels a strange sense of déjà-vu.

“Have we done this before?”

He pauses for a moment and then shakes his head. “We’ll talk about that later,” he mutters and continues forward.

She’s really not sure where they’re going to go from here, where all of this is going to lead. But the only thing she knows is that they’re going to do this together _._ She won’t let anything tear them apart. Not the First Order, not the Resistance, not _anything_. They’ll find their balance, somewhere, somehow. And once that’s achieved? Well, anything is possible.


End file.
